Fate Has Its Ways
by starkidsftw
Summary: For that was the one mystery left after the war, what had happened to Hermione Granger. She had been there by Potter's side up through the battle, fighting against evil. Then, after it was over, she disappeared. No one could find her. No one knew where she was. Draco Malfoy hadn't even thought about Hermione Granger in years. Then, one day, that all changed.
1. Chapter 1

**SPOILER ALERT I don't own Harry Potter.**

Draco Malfoy knocked on the office door in front of him three times. Putting his hands in his pockets, he let his eyes wander around the auror office of the ministry of magic, in which he was currently standing.

It was a large room, though fairly dark, given that there were no windows. It was the conference room for aurors, who all had their own private offices leading off. Each door had an auror's name on it in golden script. The walls were all coated with pictures of dark wizards currently on the loose. There were substantially less wizards on the walls than in the past, given that the Dark Lord was dead and gone.

It had been seven years since the battle of Hogwarts, where the ever so annoying boy-who-lived had finally put Voldemort where he rightfully belonged. All the mysteries: Voldemort's immortality, the various disappearances, and Potter's fake death had all been solved. Since then, the wizarding world had been ever so light. All the death eaters who had survived were tried and sent to Azkaban, including Draco's father. Pure blood supremacy had been stamped out, the wizarding world cracking down on anyone who showed the slightest sign of bigotry. Knockturn alley had been closed down and raided; all dark objects discovered had been destroyed on sight.

The wizarding world had destroyed any remaining possibilities of the dark washing over and choking the world until nothing remained. Draco didn't particularly mind that. The last year that the Dark Lord had been in power had been hell for him. He couldn't go back to Hogwarts because of his involvement with Dumbledore's death, so he was stuck with his parents and crazy aunt at the Manor. He had spent his time torturing prisoners and occasionally doing missions. He had felt so alone, so guilty and so _evil_. He had quickly learned that everything he had ever known about purebloods, and Voldemort had been drastically wrong. He could still remember the screams of the tortured as he caused them unimaginable agony…..

Draco shuddered. He pulled his mind back to the present. He avoided thinking about that year at all costs. He had hated it; that year had represented everything he had ever wrongfully wanted and all the mistakes he had ever made. Surprisingly, though Draco still had no idea how, he had managed to escape Azkaban, along with his mother.

His mother escaping Azkaban was understandable: she had lied to Voldemort and saved Harry Potter after the incident in the woods. That incident was now legend. Everyone knew the tale of how Narcissa Malfoy had put her life in jeopardy to stop Potter's death fraud from becoming the knowledge of the Dark Lord. This had led to the death of Voldemort at the hands of the chosen one.

But Draco escaping Azkaban was still a mystery. He hadn't done anything good at all. He couldn't show that he didn't deserve a life in prison. He was responsible for Dumbledore's death. He had tortured and killed. Even worse, he had stood back and watched people being tortured and killed. He had never protected anyone. He felt as though he should be punished for his sins; he was incredibly guilty. He wanted to feel the hurt he had caused others. But yet, no punishment was thrust upon him. He had been pardoned by the wizard courts, and let back into the world. The only piece of punishment was a heavy warning that if he ever so much put a toenail out of line, the courts would get him a family cell for him and his death eater father.

The office door in front of him opened, shaking Draco from his thoughts. Draco looked at the man in the doorway. Blaise Zabini stood in front of him with a goofy, lop sided grin on his face. Draco smiled at his best friend.

The tall, buff, and dark haired man stood at ease in the presence of the ex-death eater. Blaise had stood by him throughout the entire process of his trial and the aftermath of the battle. His other friends had abandoned him, even though they had also been involved. Blaise, with his exceptional morals for a Slytherin, hadn't been involved with the Dark Lord in the slightest. He hadn't even bullied people at the school level.

After Hogwarts, he had managed to get himself a place in auror training, something he had always wanted to do, but would never admit. Draco, who had known Blaise well enough , had put the clues together simply based on his choices for NEWT classes. When Draco had confronted him about it, Blaise had simply said,

" I don't want to be a death-eater like the rest of you. I don't even want them to exist. I'd rather fight evil than take part in it. But there is no way in Merlin's name that I'm going to admit that surrounded by the offspring of dark wizards. I'm not a total moron." Draco respected his not total moronicness.

So he had entered the auror program, alongside the famous Harry Potter. Blaise, being a good guy, had shown no animosity towards the chosen one. The Pothead had responded vigorously. Blaise and the boy wonder had struck up a friendship, and now, seven years later, they were partners in the auror office.

"Draco!" Blaise exclaimed, his voice booming out. He pulled Draco into a hug. Draco knew there was no use resisting. Blaise was ridiculously strong, even if he was as cuddly as a giant teddy bear.

"How was Moscow?" Blaise asked, gesturing Draco into his office. Blaise's office was much brighter than the rest of the auror department. He had fixed windows, which shone into his office all day and night, (you've got to love magic). The walls were not covered with wanted wizards like the rest of the auror department. They were instead covered with photos of Blaise's family and friends. There was one of Draco right in the centre of the wall; his photographic self was continuously tripping over a chair. Blaise had gotten him pissed drunk and proceeded to take a photo as he fell over. Draco was usually agile and coordinated, but being drunk had wreaked that birth given gracefulness. He had fallen face first onto the ground. He had been unconscious for hours.

"Good, good," said Draco, walking over and leaning on the desk, gazing out of the window. "The new office is up and running smoothly."

"Awesome," exclaimed Blaise, walking over and clapping him on the back. "We should go celebrate! I swear, Draco; Malfoy Industries will be worldwide soon enough."

Draco smirked his trade mark smirk. Malfoy Industries was his pride and joy. The company he had founded after the war was booming, in locations across three continents, raking in galleons from across the world.

"Sure, mate," Draco nodded. "I'm in need of vodka. I am seriously missing Russia. Merlin, what a place."

"Yeah, it's the vodka you're missing," Blaise chuckled, winking suggestively and wagging his eyebrows. "Are you sure it isn't a lady you're missing? Russian girls, oh merlin."

Draco rolled his eyes. Blaise was so predictable. "Aren't you engaged mate?"

Blaise laughed again. "Yep, but Padma knows that she's the only girl for me. You know, because she's so gorgeous, lovely, kind and amazing."

Draco shook his head, smirking. "I still don't know how you managed to snag Padma Patil."

"Hey!" Blaise retorted, looking offended. He gestured to himself. "I'm a charming and handsome man!"

"Sure, Blaise," Draco said, trying to keep a straight face.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Are we getting that drink or what?"

"Yeah mate," Draco said, turning, so Blaise couldn't see the smile still upon his face. "Shall we?" He said, gesturing to the door.

"Yeah," Blaise replied, grabbing his coat and exiting the office. "Ladies first," Draco muttered, still trying not to laugh, and following him back out to the auror department.

Blaise pretended not to have heard him. He probably didn't even care though. Draco and Blaise had common banter; insulting each other was their version of a conversation. It seemed to only strengthen their friendship. Screw logic.

They had just started to walk towards the elevators at the other side of the office when a voice called them back.

"Oi! Zabini!" the voice shouted. They turned.

Rushing up to them, his glasses lopsided, was the original Scarface himself, Harry Potter. Looking virtually unchanged, with his unkempt black hair, bright green eyes, and annoying scar, he handed a file to Blaise. Potter practically threw it into his hands, the Slytherin fumbling to catch it.

"Could you look into that for me?" Potter burst out. Blaise looked confused, but shrugged, nodded and opened the file none the less.

"Hey, Scarface," Draco drawled, drawing the chosen one's attention to the him.

"Ferret," Potter replied, nodding. Over the years, the two had learned to deal with each other, mainly because of Blaise. Their mutual friendship and respect for the moral Slytherin changed things. Blaise had told Draco once that Potter thought that since he was friends with Blaise, he wouldn't hate on Draco too much, emphasis on too much. Potter was unwilling to cause friction between the two of them. Though the years of hatred could never be erased, Draco, though he would never admit it, was very thankful to Potter for saving his life in the final battle of Hogwarts. It had slightly lessened the quantity of annoyance Potter caused Draco.

"How was Moscow?" Potter asked him, eyes still on Blaise while he sifted through the file.

"Pretty good," Draco replied curtly. He had never really cared for small talk. He instead watched as Blaise eyes raced over the contents of the file, with Potter's anxious eyes never leaving his face.

Blaise sighed and shook his head. "Harry, I really don't think…"

"Please Blaise," Potter pleaded, cutting across him.

Blaise looked like he wanted to refuse whatever Potter was asking. After a few seconds of looking over the boy who lived way more than expected, he sighed, obviously giving in, and nodded. Years with the pothead had made him soft, Draco reckoned.

"Thanks Blaise," Potter said gratefully.

"I wouldn't get your hopes up, Harry," Blaise replied, looking grim. "It's been years."

"I know," Potter said, looking pitifully downtrodden. "But I can't lose hope."

Blaise sighed. "I'll look into it Harry, I promise, but right now, Draco and I need to go."

Potter smiled at Blaise, nodded at Draco, turned and left. Blaise looked after him, pity in his eyes. He then turned around and headed to the elevators, Draco trailing after him. Once they were safely isolated from the rest of the ministry in an empty elevator, Draco turned to Blaise, his eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Granger," Blaise responded curtly, averting his eyes. Ah yes, Draco nodded, fully understanding.

For that was the one mystery left after the war: what had happened to Hermione Granger.

She had been there by Potter's side up through the battle, fighting against evil, searching for horcruxes, helping the wounded. She had even been there as well in the immediate aftermath, making statements, cleaning up the world and helping Potter, who had seemed to go a little over the edge after killing the dark lord. Draco had personally thought he was just overworked.

Then, a week after the Dark Lord went six feet under, she had disappeared out of the blue. There was no trace of her anywhere. The Wizarding World had gone ballistic, understandably. Everyone had thought the dark side was dead and gone, never to question the light again. But then Hermione Granger, best friend of the chosen one, war heroine, and beacon of hope, disappeared from the face of the planet. Potter, using the influence being the boy-who-lived came with, had splashed her face across every wizarding newspaper in the world. He had sent hundreds looking for her; she was practically his sister after all.

Weasel King had been similarly distraught. After the war he had been helping out the same why Granger had been, but the second the bookworm had disappeared, he had locked himself up. He stayed in his pigsty of a house for months before emerging, and when he had emerged, he had been pale, sickly and skinny. The disappearance of his bookworm seemed to have sucked the life out of him. Potter had been very similar. It had taken the two of them years to begin living again. Actually, Draco wasn't even sure they had started to live again.

They had looked for her endlessly. The whole of society had looked all across the world for her, to no avail. Then here the world was, seven years later, no closer to finding her than the day she had disappeared.

Eventually, people had begun to forget about Hermione Granger. She had been gone for so long that people did a little double take if her name was mentioned. The case was still open, Blaise was the head of it, but there was never any news. Hermione Granger was gone, physically and spiritually. Draco hadn't even really thought about the bookworm in years.

"Did Potter find another lead?" Draco asked, a little dumbfounded that after all this time, scarface still had hope.

"Apparently," Blaise replied. The elevator had stopped. The two of them walked out into the atrium. "But I doubt it's real. It's been too long. I doubt we'll ever find her."

Draco nodded, completely in agreement. "Have you tried telling Potter that?"

Blaise shook his head. "The poor guy has lost so much in his life. He can't lose her. He'll break."

Draco nodded, somewhat understanding Potter's predicament. Potter had lost practically everyone he had ever loved, his parents, his godfather, professor Lupin, Dumbledore. He couldn't stand to lose his best friend as well. Even though the truth was that he had probably lost her the second she had disappeared.

"Leaky Cauldron?" Draco asked, trying to lighten the mood. Blaise nodded, still looking a little low. Draco knew that Blaise felt terrible for his friend. Draco smiled hopefully, gesturing Blaise into a fireplace, floo-powdering away. Hopefully, in a few drinks, Blaise would be the happy teddy bear he usually was.

**Love? Hate? Let me know?**

**Edited 5/16/2013**


	2. Chapter 2

**Yay! People liked the story, and such. Thank you to my lovely reviewers, you guys are amazing! I'll try and update at least once a week, but school just started and I have the semester from hell. Yay. Anyway, here's the next chapter..**

**Oh yeah, disclaimer, I don't own Harry Potter. Three cheers for Queen Jo!**

Later that day, after several drinks at the Leaky Cauldron, Draco was perfectly blissed out, mainly because of all the alcohol in his system. He bid Blaise goodbye, and apparated home. The darkness of night was closing in quickly. The crisp September air was chilled. A wind whistled through the trees surrounding Malfoy Manor, which Draco was now standing in front of. He felt his chest contract, and his ability to breathe diminish as he stared up at the looming building. Its windows were dark; its shadow was large and menacing. He closed his eyes, treasuring his last few moments of peace. He opened them and forced his feet to carry him to the door. He opened it, taking one last glance at the world, before entering the manor.

The halls were dark and haunting, but that wasn't what Draco was frightened of. As Draco walked through the halls towards the library, what truly frightened him about the manor appeared. Whispers filled the halls, suffocating him. They were the whispers of all who had been killed in the drawing room. Draco shuddered. There were no ghosts at the manor, that he was sure of, more like slight imprints that would fill the air with tortured voices. The whispers never stopped. All day and all night, he heard them. Some voices he recognized, and some he didn't. There were too many to remember, too many killed, too many tortured….

Draco started to sprint through the halls, running away from the voices that haunted him. They haunted him always. His mother, who still lived in the manor, never seemed to hear them, only Draco. He knew why this was of course. His mother had never hurt anyone, never tortured anyone, and never killed anyone with her own wand. Draco had killed and tortured, and therefore, the spirits tortured him in return.

Draco hated the manor. If it was up to him, he would have moved away from it the second Voldemort lost. However, he was put there on magical house arrest awaiting his trial for his death eater deeds. After he was cleared, he was planning on leaving the country, running away from all his past. He wasn't a Gryffindor; he didn't have the courage to stay and face it. But then, Lucius had been put in Azkaban. Draco didn't mind, however, his mother was devastated. Narcissa Malfoy was good woman, who loved her son and husband more than she loved herself. Once Lucius was put away, Narcissa was alone. All of her friends had been locked away. Her family either had died or was still alive, but hated her. Draco was the only thing she had left. He couldn't leave her with nothing.

So, he stayed. He stayed and was plagued with nightmares beyond imagination. He stayed and was made a social pariah, until he was able to start his own business. He stayed, and was forced to deal with the things he was so ready to run away from. It was hard, but he did it. He stayed for his mother, who he loved more than anything. He never showed affection, except when he was with her. She was his one soft spot under his layers of cold stone.

But now, seven years had gone by since Draco decided to stay at the Malfoy. Narcissa had managed to rebuild her life. She had patched up her relationship with Andromeda, her sister. She had found herself a new group of friends, not involving death eaters. She had let go of the past.

So Draco decided he needed to let go as well. He was finally leaving the manor. He had spoken to his mother about the subject, and she agreed it was time for him to leave the place that was haunting him so. In fact, tomorrow he was moving out.

Draco arrived at the library door, pushing it open and sliding in. He quickly made his way to the back, to find his mother reading a book in her favourite armchair. She looked up and smiled at him. He returned it, his mother being one of the only things he smiled about.

"Hello, Draco dear," she said.

"Hello mother," he responded.

"How's Blaise?" she asked.

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "Same as usual, I suppose."

They made idle chitchat for a few more minutes. Draco tried not to grimace. He hated small talk. After several more minutes, Draco decided he was going to head to bed. His mother, as he was leaving, grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Draco, dear," she said softly, looking up at him with wide eyes. "I know you're moving out tomorrow. I probably won't be up to see you go. So, I wanted to say," she hesitated slightly. Taking a deep breath, she rallied on. "I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for staying. After the war, I know this is the last place you wanted to be, with everything that happened. But you stayed anyway. Thank you for that, Draco."

His heart warmed, looking at his mother. He knew now, that all the suffering he had endured in this house was worth it, so that his mother was happy. He smiled down at her, and slowly turned away, heading back into the manor.

The whispers followed up into his room. His room had been stripped clean and packed into boxes. Now all that remained was the bed. He stripped down and pulled on some pyjamas. He slowly climbed into his bed, his anxiety rising. He tried to calm down, but he couldn't, he knew what was coming. And, sure enough, the second he passed into the world of unconsciousness, the torture started.

The nightmares were indescribable pain. He was always forced to relive some significant moment from the war. Some days it was the final battle, as he watched person after person fall around him. Some days it was the room of requirement, as Crabbe died from the flames. Some days it was on top of the astronomy tower, as Dumbledore died before his eyes. His fault, it was all his fault. But tonight, not one of those classics appeared.

Tonight, he was back in the drawing room of the manor. Tonight, he stood by and watched as Hermione Granger was tortured before his eyes, his crazy aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange looming over her petite form, thrashing on the ground. Her screams each sent a shot of agony through to his core. He stood there frozen, and watched Hermione cry and thrash on the floor, as Bellatrix cackled. It was endless. He screamed out for Bellatrix to stop, but no one listened. It was as if he didn't even exist. Bellatrix laughed evilly, relishing in the agony she was enforcing on the Gryffindor at her feet. Draco started crying as well, fighting to reach Hermione, and save her from this fate. She didn't deserve this. She never deserved this. He couldn't move, he couldn't do anything. Useless, he was completely useless. He had no power. He couldn't save her. He couldn't do anything. Guilt washed over him. He drowned in it, until he woke up in the morning, doused in sweat, Hermione's screams still echoing in his head.

Draco spent the rest of the day moving boxes into his new flat. When he had left the dreaded manor, it felt as though a huge burden had been lifted from his chest. He could breathe easier. He smiled for no reason. He didn't even think about the horrific dream he had experienced. He was free.

Draco walked up the steps to his building, levitating a box behind him. He had searched all over London for a new flat, seeing countless different options, but never finding one that was quite to his liking. He had finally found one in an enchanted building near Big Ben. He had liked the building because of its view of the river, blue and sparkly, sometimes. He had also liked it because it was for wizards and witches only. Draco was doing very well at moving past his prejudices towards muggles and muggle-borns (mudblood had been outlawed), but he wasn't ready to move in with them yet.

He walked into his new flat, levitating the box behind him. He gazed around contently at his new living space. This was his place, his sanctuary, away from his past and his present. It was perfect, currently covered with boxes, but perfect none the less. He smiled. This was brilliant.

As he levitated his final box into his new flat, he tripped over another box he had left lying precariously on the hardwood floor. As he tripped, he lost his magical grip on the final box, which fell to the ground, its contents flying across the room.

Draco swore, cursing the fact that he'd have to pick everything back up. It was so carefully organized too. He had been meticulous about packing. He sighed, annoyed, and quickly got to work.

After picking up several miscellaneous objects, a letter opener here, a quill there, he came across his copy of Hogwarts a History. As he lifted the old brown book, the binding detaching itself, an old newspaper fell out from between the pages. Confused, Draco put the book down and picked up the old copy of the Daily Prophet. HERMIONE GRANGER, WAR HERO AND BEST FRIEND TO HARRY POTTER HAS DISAPPEARED was splashed across the cover. Below was a smiling picture of Granger, her bushy hair tamed, her brown eyes sparkling.

Draco looked down at the page he held in his hands. He'd forgotten he kept it. The page was wrinkled and yellow from seven years of being saved. He grazed his fingers across Hermione's smiling face, her eyes twinkling at him, so different from the face he had seen in his dream the night before. Why Draco had saved it, he couldn't even remember. He did however remember the day this paper had first came into his possession. It was engraved permanently in his memory. He and his parents were on magical house arrest, awaiting their various trials for involvement with Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

_Draco was sitting at the table, eating the eggs one of the house elves had placed before him, when the morning post arrived, carried in by various owls. The three Malfoys looked up in anticipation. Every day more news regarding the capturing of death eaters reached them. Every day, they would wait for the fate of various other criminals, hoping to receive a vague idea of what was in store for them. That day, however, it was something different._

_The Daily Prophet was dropped in front of his mother by a tawny barn owl. Narcissa picked the paper up, and let her eyes gaze lazily over the first page. She suddenly chocked on the juice she was consuming. Coughing and spluttering, she reread the page, her eyes widening in obvious shock._

"_Narcissa?" Lucius Malfoy asked tentatively, his voice soft and raspy, from lack of use. No one in the Malfoy house had been speaking much, everyone keeping to themselves, and out of the way. "What is it?"_

_Narcissa laid the paper across the table, and she stood up, shivering. Lucius and Draco stood up and walked over to her side, where the both read the title. HERMIONE GRANGER, WAR HERO AND BEST FRIEND TO HARRY POTTER HAS DISAPPEARED_

_Lucius looked highly distressed, and pulled his wife into his arms. "No one's safe," he muttered, placing his chin on her head. "If they can get to her, no one is safe."_

"_How could they manage?" Narcissa trembled, and curled into Lucius, resting her head on his shoulder. "She must have been so protected, and she's exceptionally strong and talented…for a muggle-born," Narcissa added quickly._

"_I don't know," Lucius muttered. "Who would be stupid enough to do this though? Potter's best friend? They have the death sentence written across their forehead. Potter will never give up on his friends…bloody fool," Lucius added, also quickly._

_Draco scarcely heard them. He couldn't stop staring at the picture. Granger stared back, her eyes twinkling. He couldn't understand. He had never particularly liked the bookworm, but he knew she was powerful and strong. His broken nose from third year testified to that. How could someone capture her? She was the brightest witch of the age, after all. She had survived years of torment. She had survived attacks. She had survived the battle of Hogwarts for Merlin's sake! Draco kept his eyes glued to her face. His father was right, if Hermione Granger had been taken, no one was safe._

_His parents were trembling, obviously frightened. They all thought that the light side had vanquished, that there was no more fear from the dark anymore. But Granger's disappearance relighted old fears, of the Dark Lord rage. Narcissa, after all, had saved Potter in the woods. If there were still active death eaters, they probably wouldn't be too pleased about that fact._

_Draco didn't know what came over him. He grabbed the paper, his mind completely disconnecting from his body, and ran up to his room, his parents staring blankly after him still clutching each other. He got to his room and bolted the door behind him. He collapsed onto the floor, crying, not even understanding why. He had stayed there for a while; until his parents had the house elves collect him for supper. He had kept the paper though, tucked up behind inside his copy of Hogwarts, a History. He had seen Granger reading it once, when he had stumbled upon her in the library late one night. It seemed fitting, to keep Granger there. After that day, he had thought of Granger's disappearance constantly for about a year afterwards, until Granger had finally slipped from his mind. However, he had never retrieved the paper from inside his book. So, there it had stayed, for many years._

Draco brought his head back to the present. He still couldn't understand why Granger's disappearance had upset him so much. He had constantly thought about it for that first year, each time the thought filling him with sadness, each time sobs escaping him. He didn't understand it at all. He and Granger had never been friends, never even acquaintances. They were simply enemies. He had teased and discriminated against her; she had punched him in the face. They had a system, but friendship was never a part of it. So why had he cared so much? He raked his mind, searching for reason. It must have been because it meant there were still active Death Eaters. Yes, Draco thought, that must have been it. He shook his head, as if shaking any thought of the bookworm out of it. He folded up the paper, put it back in the book, and continued to clean up the boxes contents.

The next day, Draco woke bright and early in his new flat, still surrounded by boxes. He felt slightly relaxed. He had still had nightmares; however they were not as intense and torturous. Leaving Malfoy Manor was definitely doing him some good. Draco rolled over, and looked at the clock. 8:21, it read. His eyes suddenly shot open. It wasn't that early after all. He had to be at work in nine minutes. It was his first day back at the office since Moscow, and he had people he needed to update. He pulled himself out of bed, scarfed down some toast, and dressed quickly. He managed to apparate to work by 8:29.

Malfoy was grumbling slightly when he walked through the front doors of Malfoy Industries, located in central London. It was an enchanted building, so muggles never came knocking.

"Welcome back Mr. Malfoy," said the secretary, Julie, as he walked through the atrium to the elevators. He nodded in her direction, but he didn't have time to stay and chat. He quickly headed to the seventh and top floor, where he was set to give a meeting about Moscow. He arrived in time, just ahead of all his various heads of departments. He brushed his suit off, got his best corporate face on, and spoke for an hour about Moscow, and shares, and investments and other corporation things. It was very stereotypical and rather dreary, but Draco enjoyed it. It was numbing, and simple, not evil and torturous. He was good at business as well, and it didn't give him nightmares. The corporate world was perfect for him. At the end of the meeting, he retreated into his office, and sat down at his desk. He was decently tired, and didn't really want to do any work, though his workload was pilling up quickly. He was staring blissfully into space when a knock on the door jolted him back to reality.

"Yeah?" He called out, rather grumpily.

The door opened and a sandy haired man walked in. It was his head of international offices , Mr. Seamus Finnigan. It still amazed Draco that Seamus was one of his top and most reliable guys in the office. Why the Gryffindor had wanted to work for him after the war was still a mystery to him, but whatever. The man was good at his job.

"Malfoy?" Seamus entered, tentatively, obviously noticing his grumpy mood. Draco smirked. He had taught Seamus well.

"Yeah Finnigan?" he said, trying to sound more cheerful. He sounded like he was on helium.

Seamus's mouth twitched, but he continued on. "Good news, sir."

"Which is?"

"You know how you wanted to open some offices in North America?" Draco nodded. "Well, I've been in contact with some wizards over there, and I think I have an idea." Draco now started paying attention.

"So, the wizards in Toronto need an industry like well, Malfoy Industries. I've been looking into it, and if we get an office there in the next little while, we will get some serious galleons."

"Umm…where's Toronto?" Draco asked, feeling a bit stupid.

"Canada," Seamus replied, his mouth twitching again.

"Like, beavers and ice?" Draco asked, an early lesson on countries coming back to him.

"Pretty much. It's one of the biggest cities in Canada, and the majority of wizards in Canada reside in or near Toronto. It's a big magical area, who knows why? But seriously, there are tons of wizards, and they want Malfoy Industries."

"Hmmm," Draco said, nodding. Canada. That could work. They could get a lot of galleons from that area, it appeared. It seemed like an ideal new location. Little cold, but oh well. He could deal.

"Alright," Draco smiled at Seamus, business being one of the only other things he smiled about.

"Perfect," Seamus replied. "If we want an office there, we need to send you over this week to set it up. I already found a location, and I know some people from this office who wouldn't mind transferring."

"Why do I have to go?" Draco whined, sounding very much like a five year old denied dessert.

"Same reason as Moscow. You own the company, and even though you are a total git, you're great at business.

Draco nodded. It was true. Oh well, the company was the most important thing to him now. He guessed he had to go.

"Fine," Draco said, with a little spite in his voice from the "git" comment. "As long as no one gives me a beaver."

Seamus laughed and exited the office chuckling, "You really know nothing about Canada."

**Hey guys! I know the beginning of the chapter, is kind of crappy, and is a little dark and such, but I just wanted to make it clear Draco suffered from the war a fair amount, as well as his relationship with his mother. Those things are important. The next few chapters won't be so focused on that, I just needed to make those two things clear early on. Review**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello all! Thanks for all the reviews, favs, follows, so on so forth, continue with that. Thank you, my awesome beta, for editing this so quickly! Just thank you everyone who read and showed the slightest interest. You guys are the best!**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter. I probably never will. Ever.** **Sad face.**

The next day, Draco went back to the Ministry to tell Blaise about his upcoming adventure to the great white North. He was shivering at the prospect of being stuck in a cold deserted wasteland for several weeks, but he'd deal. Nevertheless, it was for the company, and he'd gone through much worse. He walked briskly through the corridors of the Ministry, avoiding the eyes of those staring curiously at him. Draco always expected this, even if he didn't like was Draco Malfoy after all. Even if you took away all the events of the war from his profile, he was still one of the richest people in England.

He caught a swift glance at some of the people eyeing him. Draco saw mainly strangers, with a few recognized faces from his Hogwarts days. That recognition only made him walk faster, averting his eyes to the floor once didn't want to talk to any of his classmates from Hogwarts. The majority of them hated him. Rightfully so of course, but he didn't want to be beaten up today. He scuttled instead of strutted through the halls, hoping to avert the attention. People weren't really his thing anyway, not anymore.

After several more minutes of scuttling, he arrived at the auror department, and hurried across to the door marked, "Blaise Zabini" in gold script. Reaching for the doorknob, he hesitated slightly. He could hear noises from inside. Blaise was talking to someone, that someone's voice unrecognizable through the wall. Since Draco didn't really care what was happening, he walked straight into the office anyway.

He quickly realized he should have stayed outside. What he found in the office was something he had never imagined seeing in his entire life. He stood shocked for a moment, barely comprehending the situation. In front of him sat Harry Potter, head in his hands, bawling his eyes out. Blaise was leaning against his desk, patting Harry on the back, murmuring something that sounded like comfort.

"Did I interrupt something?" Draco asked, still staring at Potter. He was completely out of his comfort zone, in the world of the unimaginable and unrealistic. This was a scenario that Draco would have thought impossible. He never thought he'd live to see the day where Harry Potter was crying. He had seen the guy lose all the bones in one arm, get yelled at by Snape, fall hundreds of feet off a broomstick, even seen him defeat the darkest wizard of all time. He had seen Potter face some of the hardest possible situations in the world, ever. But he had never ever seen Potter cry.

Potter looked up, his eyes red and tears streaming down his face. Draco stared, frozen in shock. He knew the guy had to deal with this stuff in his life, that was common knowledge, but he always seemed so annoyingly strong, never ever was one of the reasons Draco hadn't liked him. Nothing could wreak Potter, nothing could break him down. He was Harry freaking Potter after all. The Harry Potter Draco knew and was annoyed by was definitely not the one sitting before him.

Blaise started to speak, his eyes soft,and his face sympathetic, which wasmind boggling for a Slytherin. "The lead from the other day, it's a dead end."

He stared at Blaise. Draco had felt a pang in his chest when Blaise said that, but he couldn't understand why. Why did it matter to him that the lead was a dead end? It obviously mattered to Potter.

"Oh," Draco muttered, still staring at the broken boy wonder. "Granger."

Potter flinched. He then looked at Draco, Draco feeling a bit fearful. Potter's eyes were cold eyes of steel.

"How dare you," Potter stated. Draco stared at him, wide-eyed. "You have no right to say her name. NO RIGHT!" he screamed. Potter stood up and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

Draco turned to Blaise, completely dumbfounded at Potter's rage. What had Draco done that had been that bad? Blaise answered his unspoken question with a sigh. "It's her birthday."

"What?" Draco asked, still confused.

"Hermione. Today is her birthday. She would have been twenty six."

"Would have been?" Draco asked, suddenly feeling numb, all strength and emotion draining from his body. He was certain that his face was pale, well, paler than usual.

"Well, it's not certain," Blaise restated quickly, noticing Draco's ashen face. "That's why Harry's so upset. I told him that after all this time, she's probably dead, and there's no point in hoping otherwise."

"What happened to not letting him break?" Draco asked, feeling hopeless himself now.

"I thought about what you said the other day," Blaise stated." You were right. I needed to tell him the truth, and the truth is that Hermione Granger disappeared seven years ago, after a war which she was heavily involved in. She was probably killed and tortured by agents of the Dark Arts immediately after her disappearance to get back at Harry for his defeat of Voldemort. I honestly think Harry has to start moving on; he can't just spend all his life hoping. It might just end up killing him."

"She was basically his sister. He's never going to move on," Draco stated clearly. He didn't know Potter well, but he knew that much. Potter would consider himself failing her if he ever gave up hope.

Blaise sighed. "I know. But it was worth a shot. Anyway, why are you here? I doubt it's simply to say hi."

"Oh, ummm," Draco started. Why was he here? His head was filled with Granger. He shook it, regaining knowledge. "Oh yeah! I'm going to Canada."

"Canada?" Blaise raised his eyebrows, confused himself now. "Why?"

"Apparently opening an office there would be very beneficial to the company."

Blaise snorted. "Have fun with the beavers."

Draco laughed as well. "I'll try."

"When are you leaving?"

"Now."

Blaise stared at him blankly. "And you're wearing that?"

"What's wrong with this?" Draco asked, looking down at his jeans and black t-shirt.

"Mate, its Canada. It's freezing there all year round."

"Oh," Draco muttered. "Oh well, I'll just buy a parka when I get there."

"Good luck mate," Blaise said, slapping him on the shoulder.

"See you in a few weeks!" Draco waved, walking out of the office. As he walked towards the elevator, his eyes drifted to the door marked HARRY POTTER in golden script. He felt the direction of his feet change unconsciously, and before he knew it, he was at the door. He stared blankly at the door, understanding what he needed to do. "I'm going to regret this," he muttered. He knocked on the door.

"Busy!" cried Potter's hoarse voice from within. Draco ignored him, as usual, and walked on in.

Potter had his head on his desk. He was still crying. He looked up in confusion when he heard Draco walk in, but his eyes quickly narrowed.

"Piss off, Ferret," he snapped.

Draco didn't leave. He walked over to the desk so that he was standing right in front of the chosen one. "Listen Potter, about earlier. I'm…sorry." Potter blinked at him. His face was no longer angry, the tear filled eyes were now filled with confusion. "I know she wa…_is _your best friend, basically your sister. I'm sorry if my statement made this any harder." Merlin, that felt unnatural to say.

Potter stared at him. "Thanks, Malfoy," he said tentatively, as if testing the waters of this new step in their relationship. "I'm sorry that I yelled at you."

Draco shrugged, nonchalantly. "It wasn't the first time."

Potter gave a watery chuckle, another tear falling down his face.

"Well, I best be off," said Draco briskly, feeling increasingly more awkward. "See you, Potter."

"Bye, Ferret."

Draco chuckled. It seemed that name was going to stick with him forever.

As he headed to the elevators, he reflected on his conversation with Potter. He had no idea why he apologized to the guy. The poor bloke had just seemed so devastated. Draco was going on? He, Draco Malfoy, pitied Potter. He, Draco Malfoy, cared that the guy was upset. This was not natural. Maybe it was Granger's name that was affecting him. Draco shuddered once more; the idea of Granger's name affecting him was completely and utterly absurd. He had barely known the girl, besides tormenting her.

It was amazing to Draco how she had suddenly stormed back into his life. He hadn't laid eyes on her in years; she went missing so long ago. But now, it seemed like she was everywhere in his life, the file, the lead, the paper, and Potter's brokenness. It was strange. He hadn't thought about the girl in years before the incident with the file a few days prior, and now, she occupied so many of his thoughts. Draco shook his head. He seriously needed to get Granger out of it. He wonderedif they sold Hermione Granger mental blocks.

When he got to the atrium, he dropped by the front desk, where he had deposited his suitcase with a concierge. If Blaise was right about Canadian weather, he would have to buy a whole new wardrobe. That was slightly depressing. He grabbed the suitcase, tossed a galleon in the direction of the concierge and focused all of his thoughts on the address Seamus had given him. Quick as a flash, Draco apparated across the Atlantic, all the way to Canada.

Draco suddenly found himself in the middle of a large city. He was momentarily thrown, and thought that he had misapparated. He checked the address again. Nope, he was in the right place. His eyes widened as he took in his definitely didn't look like the Canada he had imagined. There were no igloos, real buildings, no ice, and it was decently warm. Not a single parka in sight. He guessed those were all just stereotypes. He chuckled at the thought he was going to be given a beaver, and entered the building he had apparated to.

It was a nice building, decently sized, four floors, a good conference room, and a brilliant view of the large neighbouring lake. It was perfect for a Malfoy Industries' office. There were a few transfers already there, setting up. Draco walked in and got their attention. He quickly introduced himself, as politely as possible, and joined in with the setting up.

Getting a new office ready wasn't easy. He helped with the office itself, painting, setting up chairs, and mundane jobs like that. He sent out job offers in the Toronto Prophecy, the name of the wizarding newspaper for the area to try and get some local wizards on board. He met with various locals to understand what Canadian wizards wanted in their neighbourhood corporation. He worked very hard that first day, and felt very accomplished afterwards. After he was done for the day, he went to go find a place to stay. He easily got a room at the Feathered Quill, the biggest wizarding hotel in Canada, just a few blocks away from the office. Falling into his new bed, his mind went blissfully blank after the exhaustion of that first day. At the moment, Hermione Granger was the furthest thing from bothering him.

**Review. Good, bad, just let me know. Reviews of any nature make my day.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well hello my lovely followers. Thanks for following, favouriting, and such. Reviews have gone down and I'd love it if they went back up. That'd be totally awesome. Anyway, you guys completely rock. Love you all. Seriously. Anyway, that's it for me being mushy. Thanks again, and also thanks to my awesome beta for getting this corrected quickly. You are awesome. Alright. Now I'm done. Really.**

**Disclaimer: Fanfiction, means fans write it. So I don't own Harry Potter. Shocker, I know, but I don't. Thank you Jo!**

Over the next few days, Draco got used to life in Canada. He very quickly realized that every single Canadian stereotype he had ever learned had been grossly over exaggerated. Canada wasn't freezing all year round, in fact, the autumn time weather he was experiencing was rather pleasant. They did not eat maple syrup on everything, as he originally suspected. They ate it on some things; although it was clear the locals adored the sweet treat. And also, the stereotype Draco had been most expecting was false, to his severe disappointment.

They did not have pet beavers. He had gotten slapped in the face by a woman he met on the street because of that. He had simply asked if he could see her beaver. He had never seen one before. Looking offended, she had slapped him across the face and ran away. Draco had just stood there confused. "Canadians," he had muttered.

In the meantime, the new office for Malfoy Industries was getting set up nicely. It was about the size of the one in Moscow, and about half the size of the main headquarters in London. He was fairly pleased with his progress. He had managed to hire several Canadian wizards to work at the office, for which he was thankful. You needed locals on board when you were starting a new office. Otherwise, the lack of cultural experience might just run your business into the ground.

There were two Canadians Draco had hired, after they had responded to his ads in the Toronto Prophecy. A woman name Katie was the new main secretary. She was a very pretty woman, tall, thin and she had blonde hair. Draco honestly thought she was a complete and utter ditz the first time he had met her, the day she had come in for her job interview. Though, within seconds he had realized his mistake. She was a sharp woman, intelligent and slightly ferocious, like Professor Mcgonagall, but younger. He knew immediately he didn't want to get onto her bad side.

He had also hired a tall dark haired man name Justin who was head of the liaison between offices department. He was very similar to Seamus, in work habits, reliability, and ability to talk back to the boss. They were both people Draco respected. He needed that in this new office. Now, with a few new people in the mix that Draco trusted, he had new faith in the office. He had been skeptical originally when Seamus had brought up the idea. Score one Irish. So overall, the new office was getting along nicely.

An aspect of Canada that Draco was enjoying was how friendly the people were. Within two days of hiring Katie and Justin, the three of them had all become great friends. Katie and Justin showed no animosity towards him, unlike the majority of the British population. Even before his death eater antics, many people hadn't liked him on sight, because he was a Malfoy, because he was a Slytherin, because he had been_ labeled_. Draco had no labels here. It was liberating, refreshing, and slightly confusing. It had him questioning if he'd been raised under different circumstances what his life would be like.

One night, about a week after he had arrived, Draco was sitting in the new lunch room, talking to Katie and Justin. He was listening intently as they started telling him about a muggle sport called hockey.

"Hockey?" Draco asked, completely dumbfounded, never having heard the phantom word before.

"Yep," Justin smiled, smirking slightly, while he and Katie exchanged a smile. "Greatest sport there is."

"Nope," Draco replied, smirking in response. "Quidditch, my friend."

Katie and Justin laughed. They both spoke at the same time. Justin laughed, and said, superiorly "you poor, poor child." Katie smiled at him whilst saying "Welcome to Canada my friend." With that they shot into an in depth explanation. Knowing they wouldn't let him leave, Draco rolled his eyes, leaned back and allowed them to continue.

Draco listened intensely as they explained this game. He got lost several times. Apparently people skated around ice with sticks trying to send a type of ball, called a puck, into a net. It all seemed rather stupid. Why skate? Why use a stick? It seemed slightly similar to Quidditch, though substantially less awesome. However, he listened. Katie and Justin took a long time to explain. As they were explaining, they both got dreamy and glazed expressions, seeming less and less present. Draco recognized it well; it was the expression he wore whenever he spoke of Quidditch.

"I am still not buying it," Draco stated bluntly, after an hour lecture about this sport. The lecture had become drier by the second. After covering the basic rules of the game, they had told him about all these famous players, famous teams, famous fights, and famous games they had seen. Draco was dumbfounded. They seemed to be in love with hockey as if it was a human being or a type of food.

"Alright," Katie smirked, replying to his comment. "Challenge accepted."

"Excuse me?" Draco replied, dumbfounded once more. What challenge?

"Tonight, we are going to a muggle bar, and we are going to show you hockey, in all of its bloody glory."

"Oh no, Katie!" Draco resisted, whining slightly, while Justin whooped.

"Oh, come on," Katie sighed, giving him puppy dog eyes. They were the eyes of an expert manipulator. "The Leafs have their opening season game tonight."

"The leafs?" Draco asked, completely lost. "Don't they grow on trees?"

Justin chuckled. "No, she means the Toronto Maple Leafs. It's the hockey team for, well, Toronto."

"Oh," Draco replied, nodding and understanding. "Still no."

"Oh come on," Katie pouted, similar to the face Pansy Parkinson would make back in the day when she needed something. He now knew he was definitely going to lose this argument.

"Yeah man," Justin chimed in. "You aren't Canadian until you've seen a hockey game."

Draco sighed. "Bloody Canadians," he muttered. Raising his chin and smirking, he shrugged and said, "All right, I'm in."

Katie and Justin cheered, giving each other high fives. Draco rolled his eyes. They were acting like children. One thing he was sure of though, this would definitely be an interesting night.

A few hours later, Draco found himself in a muggle bar called "Finnigan's". He had laughed at the name, thinking of Seamus's expression if he ever found himself at this place. The Irish man would be drunk in a second. Katie and Justin had led him to the bar, where a matron had led them to some bar stools. The bar filled up quickly, each person quivering in anticipation of the game. The energy was very excited, again, similar to before a Quidditch game. Early on, Katie had thrown him a beer, which he quickly learned was muggle alcohol. He had immediately thought of butterbeer, but the "Molson" they had given him was a lot better.

He was drinking it contently when Katie and Justin drew his attention away from the booze. They pointed to something hanging above the bar. It was a large rectangle. After a few seconds of staring at it blankly, the rectangle came to life. They called it a television. Draco found himself impressed that muggles had made such an interesting invention, which was very similar to wizarding pictures, except endless people came in to the scene. He watched person after person came onto the screen, but then as each person left the scene quickly. It was truly real life in a box.

Draco sat in the bar for hours, drinking his beer, and eventually watching the hockey game. It came up on the television so easily, Draco was amazed. It was so realistic and so close, as if the game was happening feet away from him, instead of the kilometres away it really was, at some arena called the Air Canada Centre. Very impressive.

Then, there was the game itself. He quickly found it wasn't a sport for pansies, as he'd originally thought. It was rough, like Quidditch. He was easily engrossed in the game, cheering and booing along with his bar mates as certain players were slammed into the walls surrounding the rink. It was a rowdy game, something Draco could love and get involved in without much effort. A few hours and many beers later, the Toronto Maple Leafs had triumphed over some team called the New York Islanders. It had been an interesting game, Draco thought, or maybe he was just exceptionally drunk.

Draco walked out of the bar with Justin and Katie, or rather stumbled, given the circumstances.

"Alright," he stuttered, the alcohol going to his brain. "I admit it. That was an excellent sport."

Justin and Katie smirked. "Told ya," Katie chuckled. Justin laughed alongside her. The two of them high fived, congratulating each other on their ability to make him a hockey fan.

Draco felt himself smile. He could feel himself letting go, which was probably just the alcohol getting to him. Still, it was surprising. He was so stressed all the time, whether it be because of his memories, nightmares, lack of relationships, or even just work. He hadn't felt this good in a very long time. He felt himself letting go of all the pain, stress and hurt of the last seven years. This was Canada's doing, the entire country was relaxing him. Or, maybe it was just the Molson's. Either way, he was thankful.

He waved goodbye to Justin and Katie and began headed in the direction of the hotel. He was optimistic about sleep tonight. The nightmares still hadn't completely evaded him, though they were getting better. Draco was just having a good week.

The Slytherin Prince felt so blissful that he lost all sense of what was happening around him. He was basically trashed, but he was enjoying every second. He didn't know what was going on around him, and he didn't care. The universe had become a random mesh of colour. Nothing had shape or form truly, but he was happy, here in the realm of blissfulness. He had just started losing his sense of direction when he ran right into a young woman. She fell to the ground, crying out in shock.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Draco exclaimed, as he left his trance. The world regained form and colour around him. He looked, in concern, at the poor woman he had knocked over. Since when was he so nice, the rational side of him brain questioned. His shrugged, replying to his inner question. Canada was definitely affecting him. Draco looked down once more at the woman he had knocked over.

He held out his hand to help her up. Her brown hair was completely blocking her face, so he didn't get a clear view. She reached up and looked up at him, while her other hand brushed her hair out of her face. Grey eyes met brown. Not just any brown though, _her brown._

Draco felt his heart stop. He stared unbelievingly at the woman below him. She smiled at him quirkily, showing her slightly bucked teeth. Draco stopped breathing. "Well," she asked, glancing at their intertwined hands. Her eyes met his once more, sending electricity through his body. "Are you going to help me up?"

A jolt went through his system, so strong that it nearly knocked him over. The voice bounced around his head, unable to escape, the words ringing through him again and again. Draco would recognize that voice anywhere. He hadn't heard it in years, yet his memory of it was crystal clear in his mind. He pulled her up, feeling her hand clutching his. She stood before him for a moment, smiling her thanks. Draco stood still himself, staring at her, mouth wide open. He tried to speak, no sound escaping his lips. Finally, after a few seconds of trying, a single word left his lips.

"_Hermione?"_

**Cliffhanger! I hope you guys liked it, let me know by reviewing, hint hint nudge nudge. The next chapter should be up soon. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello dear readers! Thank you for reviewing and faving and loving and such. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger guys, but I hope this makes up for it :) Keep being awesome. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. (witty comment)**

"Hermione?" he gasped out, unbelievingly. He blinked twice and pinched himself. He looked again. She was still there. His heart stopped and restarted rapidly. His breathing increased. This couldn't be real. It had to be a dream.

He couldn't believe it. She was here. Hermione was here. The Princess of the Wizarding World, the insufferable bookworm, the heart of the golden trio and the amazing woman was standing before him. Her eyes were bright as she looked him over skeptically, a slight smile playing on her lips. It seemed to light up the world. She ran a hand through her locks, causing them to shower down her back. Her face was flushed from the cold evening air. Draco couldn't help but stare in awe at the miracle that was Hermione Granger.

Hermione stood, looking him over, curiously, as if he was a text she was studying. The bookworm was forever a part of her. Her eyes, which had been looking him over, finally reached his. Draco felt another jolt of electricity. Hermione didn't notice. She simply raised her eyebrow and asked, "Do I know you?"

Draco stared at her, eyes huge. He looked her over, as she had done to him seconds before. The difference was he looked on her with desperation, memorizing every detail, as if she was an illusion his drunken mind had conjured up. Draco's eyes traced over her, slowing down, refusing to miss a single detail. It was incredible. She looked almost exactly the same. She had obviously aged, but the key aspects of her appearance, of herself, were still perfectly intact. Her hair was still slightly bushy. Her eyes were still deep brown. She still possessed the soft curves she had grown in the last few years of Hogwarts. She still looked like Hermione. She still looked beautiful.

Woah! Draco started, his eyes widening even more. Did he just think that about the bookworm? What was going on? Never mind that, his conscience screamed at him, trying to distract him from his internal battle over Hermione's beauty. He needed priorities in his current situation. He needed to deal with the obvious situation at hand. Hermione was standing in front of him.

How can she be here? This had to be an illusion. This could not be real. It just couldn't. She couldn't be standing right in front of him, in the middle of muggle Canada. She just couldn't. Draco cocked his head, looking her over with a searching eye. She seemed so real, so solid, so present, and so _alive. _But she couldn't be. There was no way. She's dead, everyone thinks she dead. She hasn't been seen in years. She disappeared after the war. She would have come back, back to Weasel and Potter. She would never have left. This couldn't be Hermione. The Gryffindor princess was a goner. This couldn't be her.

A discreet cough brought him out of his scrambling to find sense. Hermione was still looking at him, her eyebrow cocked. She was expecting an answer. What was her question, Draco wondered, his mind disjointed and confused. He thought back quickly, his mind regaining understanding.

"Of course you know me!" He exclaimed wildly. His eyes were desperate as he watched her, waiting for recognition to fill her eyes. It never did.

"Sorry sir, I really don't know you." Hermione stated firmly, and then she turned to walk away. Draco almost had a heart attack at the prospect of losing her now. No way was Draco letting her go. No way. Draco grabbed her arm, and spun her back around, her protests being ignored.

"It's me! Draco! Draco Malfoy!" He continuously exclaimed, his eyes waving around crazily, as if he was a madman.

Her expression was still blank. Not a single emotion, besides maybe fear, crossed her face. Not even hate, which really should be appearing in the face of her worst childhood enemy. She didn't recognize him.

"Wait, you don't remember me?" he gasped, understanding the situation.

She shook her head, her brown hair swishing around her face. Draco's jaw dropped. He began stuttering incoherently. His mind was in total disarray. So many thoughts ran through it, each as jumbled as the next. Finally after a few minutes, one thought finally was able to manifest itself as words.

"You are Hermione, right?" Draco blurted out, confused beyond belief, but desperate to understand the situation.

She nodded , looking very apprehensive. "Yes I am," she said slowly, before Draco cut her off.

"Hermione Granger?" Just feeling her name on his lips sent a shiver up his spine.

"No," she shook her head. Draco's heart dropped. "My name's Hermione Mason."

"It isn't," Draco whispered, more to himself than to her, but she heard him none the less. Draco shouldn't have expected anything less; Hermione never let him get away with anything.

"It is, sir, and right now I need to go." With that, Hermione turned on her heel, scurrying away into the dark. She moved quickly, so quickly that she was out of his sight before Draco realized where she had gone. He didn't try to move.

Draco felt as though he was in shock. He stared in the direction she had disappeared in. Her face was flashing in front of his eyes. Her voice was ringing in his ears. Her smile was still warming him. She had been so close to him. He had felt her hand, intertwined with his own. She had looked him in the eye. She was real. He couldn't deny it. She was no illusion, as he should have known from the beginning. No illusion would ever be able to give Hermione justice, which meant one thing. She was back. Hermione was back.

What did he do now? He couldn't just ignore it; there was no way he ever could. Hermione was alive and well, and he was the only one that knew. What now? Who should he tell? Should he tell anyone at all? Draco thought over all his options, pretty thoroughly given the fact he was still drunk. In the end, there was only one option. He couldn't believe it had taken him so long to realize.

Draco turned immediately on his heel, and set out in a dead sprint. He ran through the streets of Toronto, narrowly avoiding other people walking through the street. He didn't really care though; he needed to get to the hotel. He quickly arrived at the front, the hotel's doors gleaming like a beacon. He rushed in the doors, and took the stairs four at a time. He was too jittery to wait for the elevator. He arrived at his room, nearly knocking the door off its hinges in his haste. He rushed over to his desk, grabbing a quill and paper. He started scribbling frantically, when his energy fell suddenly. He found his eyes drooping. His eyes quickly closed completely. His head fell onto the desk, fast asleep. He snored lightly, as he slept on top of an ink covered letter.

The sun streamed through the open window, onto Draco's sleeping face, burning through his eyelids. He squinted his eyes in the sunlight, waking slowly. He was immediately blinded, the light burning him. He looked away quickly, finding it did nothing to really ease the pain. He immediately felt a horrible headache. Ugh, he thought, realization dawning upon him. Hangover.

Draco picked himself up, and proceeded to drag himself to the bathroom. Squinting into the mirror, he found ink all over his face in an illegible pattern. He must have fallen asleep on a freshly inked letter. Funny, he didn't remember writing something last night. He shrugged. He must have been pissed drunk. He quickly washed all the ink off, and returned to his desk. He was curious to see what he had been writing. He picked up a smudged letter and read

_Blaise,_

_I found her_

That's what it said. The rest of the letter had been smudged, and was impossible to decipher. Draco thought back to the night before, his brain scrunching in concentration, which didn't help his headache. But no, he couldn't remember what he had been referring to. Everything after the bar was a blank. He looked back to the letter_. I found her_. The words rang through his head. He thought and thought. After several minutes, he gave up, tossing the letter down. He had no idea what the letter meant. Oh well, Draco thought, maybe one day he'd remember.

Draco pushed the letter from his mind, and started to prepare for the day. He quickly made himself a hangover potion, which helped his migraine immensely. He dressed quickly, grabbed a bit of toast, and headed to the office.

When he arrived, Katie and Justin were waiting at the front desk. They looked up and smiled when he walked in.

"So, he survived," Katie smirked, giggling slightly.

"Hmm?" Draco asked, a little irritated at the giggles, mainly because the potion hadn't completely rid him of his headache.

"Dude, you got so smashed," Justin chimed in, chuckling.

"Trust me, I know," Draco said, rubbing his head, and closing his eyes. The felt better sheltered from the light. Opening them again, he turned to Justin and Katie. "At least the game was good."

They grinned.

After work that day, Draco found himself wandering around downtown Toronto. He had had another successful day at the office. Yet even though the office was already raking in the galleons, he didn't feel good. Something unknown was bothering him. Who was he kidding? He knew exactly what was bothering him. It was the letter.

He had tried to forget. It must have been just some stupid drunken haze. It must have not been important. Then why did he feel so uneasy? He had a feeling, that this was something big. He couldn't figure out the mystery. _I found her _was still bouncing around his head, ringing in his ears. The thought of it made his blood go cold, which frightened him in and of itself. He had absolutely no idea what had happened last night. He didn't even know who he could be talking about, and boy was it bothering him. Who could he have possibly meant? What had happened, and why couldn't he get it off his mind?

Draco's mind drifted as he walked through the streets. He was so immersed in his thoughts that he wasn't paying attention to anything, until a yell awoke him from his world. Draco looked down in surprise.

A woman was lying on the ground beneath him, attempting to pick herself up from the ground. It seemed he had run into her and knocked her over.

"Oh sorry," he mumbled, reaching down to grab her hand. She reached up and grabbed his. She looked up at him and smirked. Draco nearly passed out.

"Is this becoming a daily thing?" she smiled.

Draco looked at her. He looked at her bright brown eyes. He looked at her bushy hair. He looked at Hermione.

_I found her _rang through his head once more. I found her. I found Her. I found Her_mione_.

Draco nearly doubled over in shock as the memory of the previous night returned. He remembered it all. Her bright brown eyes, her slightly flushed face, her confused expression, her curled hair, her quirky little smile, her voice, her hand wrapped around his, and her shadow as she disappeared into the night.

This all came back to Draco in the span of a second. He remembered it all. More jolts ran through him, shocking him. He couldn't believe it. He had found her. Hermione had been found. She was back, from who knows what, but back none the less. His heart warmed, strangely, as his eyes met hers, after quickly tracing her face. This was unbelievable.

Draco knew he was gaping. Hermione smirked. Gesturing to his hand around hers, she asked, "Are you going to help me?" He quickly nodded and pulled her up to her feet. She stood before him, amusement evident in her features.

"Hermione?" Draco asked tentatively, knowing he needed to be sure once more.

She smiled and chuckled, letting her hair fall across her eyes. Pushing it out of her face, she looked at him, her brown orbs twinkling. "Are we going to have this conversation every time you knock me over?"

Draco just stood there, watching her, barely blinking. He dared fate to take her away from him, but it didn't. She was really there. Hermione was real.

After a minute of him just watching her, when she started to look uncomfortable, Draco spoke. "We met last night."

Hermione nodded slowly, eyeing him warily. "Yep. You knocked me over, stared at me like a gaping idiot, kept muttering nonsense about how I knew you. Then I left."

Draco stared. "Don't you?"

"Don't I what?"

"Know me."

"Nope," she replied. "That's what I said last night too. Were you smashed?"

Draco nodded, still staring. After another minute, he blurt out, "Of course you know me!"

Hermione shook her head, bushy curls falling on either side of her face.

"But I'm Draco Malfoy!"

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"But, Hogwarts!" She still looked confused. "Voldemort!" No reaction. "Harry Potter!"

Hermione looked at him pitifully. "I think you've got me confused with someone else."

He knew he didn't. He could recognize the bookworm anywhere. Her voice was enough, and her hair and eyes were simply for double-checking. But, he had to be sure. Without thinking, Draco reached forward and brushed her hair over her shoulder, giving him a view of her elongated neck. She flinched away from his touch, but not before he saw what he was looking for.

"Where did you get that scar?" he said, voice trembling as he point to the thin line down her neck, the scar slightly raised from her skin.

"I don't know, can't remember," she muttered, uncomfortable.

Draco could remember. He could remember so clearly. He flashed back, reliving the moment when she had gotten it. He saw in his mind as his crazy aunt tortured Hermione on the manor floor. Bellatrix screamed about some sword, as Hermione cried and screamed in agony, her screams echoing through the manor, loud and shrill. Potter and Weasel broke out of the dungeon, which led his aunt to hold Hermione with a knife at her throat. He remembered feeling helpless and inwardly screaming as his aunt made a small cut on her neck, her blood slowly falling to the floor, staining it. Draco shuddered. He knew he would never forget that day, or the scar she got because of it.

Draco turned his attention back to Hermione. He glanced her over, scrutinizing every little detail. How could she not remember him? A thought crossed his mind. "Do you know what a muggle is?" Draco asked, going out on a limb. There was no recognition in her face as she shook her head. "Oh damn it," Draco muttered, cursing the wind.

This was the answer to the mystery, he knew it. The answer to the mystery of Hermione Granger's disappearance was right in front of him. She couldn't remember him, and that told him everything. Someone had captured her, as they had originally thought. But, the twist in the plot came next. Her memory was gone. Her kidnapper had erased her memory and dumped her in muggle Toronto, away from her friends, home, and life. And then, she didn't even know this muggle illusion wasn't her life. No wonder they had never found her.

When she hadn't come back, they had assumed she was being held prisoner. They never once considered that she was living a different life. They had looked in hidden caves and castles, where they thought someone would be holding her against her will. They had looked in heavily enchanted places, knowing only that could hold Hermione back from returning to them. They had never considered that Hermione couldn't remember them. Also, they had never thought to look in a big muggle city, knowing that no death eater would be caught in such a place. If they had considered all the options, maybe they would have found her sooner. But right now, he couldn't care less. Here she was, right in front of him, no matter what had happened to her, she was here. Hermione Granger was in front of him. He had found her.

**Yay! Another chapter! I loved writing this one, it was very fun and really got me to get into the story. Let me know what you think, reviews and such. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello all! Well, here we are, chapter six. Thanks to everyone from last chapter, for reviewing, favouriting, and following. I hit 50 followers last chapter *happy dance*. Anyway, here's the next chapter, thanks to my beta, thanks to my reviewers, thanks to everyone in general. You are all awesome.**

**Disclaimer: See all disclaimers in prior chapters.**

**A/N: The point of view changes at the beginning of this chapter. Hermione's thoughts are viewed. Exciting. Here we go.**

_Last Chapter: But right now, he couldn't care less. Here she was, right in front of him, no matter what had happened to her, she was here. Hermione Granger was in front of him. He had found her._

This was the second time in two days. This hadn't happened in so long, and here she was, two for two. Hermione mentally shunned herself. She couldn't put herself into situations like this, even though she knew she wanted to. It was over. She needed to accept that. It had been over for a very long time, and there wasn't anything she could do about it.

It had been seven years. Seven long hard years. She had been able to rebuild her life, but barely. It had taken all of her energy and ability not to give up, even though it had come very close at times. She knew she couldn't change her situation, no matter how hard she tried. She needed to move on, and she had been. She couldn't let all she had been working for all these years fall to pieces, just because of this one man. She couldn't.

Hermione locked eyes with the man standing before her. He was tall, maybe a little over six feet. He had platinum locks that fell around his face. He was very pale, with cloudy gray eyes that seemed to stare into her soul. He was very well muscled, an athletic build, tall and lean. Overall, he was very attractive. However, that was hardly the reason she couldn't leave.

It had been nearly impossible to walk away from him the night beforehand. It had taken all of her will power. She knew, even now, that she needed to leave. She tried to move her feet, break their eye contact, but she couldn't. She should never have tried.

She couldn't leave because this was her past, the past she had been trying to forget, and move on from. She hadn't had a choice in what had happened to her, but moving on had been necessary. Now, all her efforts to stay away came crashing down.

Of course, she had no idea who this man was. What had he said his name was? Draco? Oh yes, Draco Malfoy. He was convinced that he knew her, and maybe he was right. How would Hermione remember?

It had been seven years since the accident. She and her two parents had been driving around Toronto. They had all just moved here from a small Canadian town. Her parents had let her drive them all around. From what she had learned afterwards, the truck had come out of nowhere.

When she woke up in the hospital, the doctors told her what had happened. Her parents had died. And it was her fault. She was new in the area, and had no friends. Now her parents were dead. She was completely alone However, that wasn't the worst of it.

Her entire memory was gone. Her entire childhood was black, as well as her adolescence. She didn't even remember her parents. She couldn't even remember her own name until the doctors showed her an I.D. It was a Canadian passport, with her picture and the name Hermione Mason. That was all she knew.

Afterwards, Hermione had spent hours just trying to remember her past. Anything would mean the world to her, a hug from her father, her mother's hair colour. She wanted proof that she had existed before the crash. The furthest she had ever gotten was remembering pain. This, she supposed, was the car crash itself. It was blurry. She could only remember agonizing torture, and her screams. When she had woken up in the hospital, she had been covered from head to toe in bruises and cuts. Many of her bones had been broken. It was terrible.

The doctors quickly realized she had no memory, soon after she had first arrived. They told her it would most likely return in time. It never had. Seven years later, she still had no idea what had happened before that fateful day.

She had arrived in the hospital on July 2nd, 1998. She stayed there for a month or so, before the doctors gave her the all clear. She was then let her back into the world. She was eighteen, so she could live alone. She returned to the address the doctors had given her. It was the apartment that her and her parents had apparently just bought. It was well furnished, but with no personal items. It truly felt as if she hadn't lived before the crash.

She tried to get used to this new life, or life in general. It was hard though. She had no family, no help and no memories. Those things took their toll. In fact, for the first year, her lack of memory had been the bane of her existence.

Living without a past was hard on Hermione. She could barely deal with it at times. She wanted those memories back. She wanted to remember her life. She had spent countless hours just staring at the wall, hoping to get a memory back. She even travelled back to her old home, that small Canadian town, to try and find a connection to her old life. All anyone said was that the Masons were just a strange family who homeschooled their only daughter. No one ever talked to them. That didn't help her. She had tried to find her old house, but it had been destroyed. Hermione had tried everything to find a trace of Hermione Mason in the world. The effort involved nearly killed her. She became depressed, upset all the time because of her lost life. She wanted something to hold onto, but could never find it. In fact, she ended up in the hospital again on a drug overdose.

She had just wanted out. She felt completely lost. Her life was pointless, worthless, and no one would care if she died anyway. No one would notice, for starters. She was alone. She didn't have a soul in the world.

After she was let out of the hospital, she decided to go see her parents' graves. The doctors, a year before, had told her they were buried in a cemetery a little ways out of the city. She hadn't gone to see them yet. She couldn't remember them, or any of their lives together; she had no right to cry over their graves.

However, after her life had nearly ended, she felt obligated to go see what it would be like if she had died.

The cemetery had been cold and dark when she had visited. It had been autumn, and the air was chilling. With leaves blowing through the air, she had quickly found the graves entitled Anna Mason and Bradley Mason. She had kneeled before the graves. She begged for a , none had come. She begged her heart to feel something, a single emotion. Still, nothing. Not a single feeling or even the slightest recognition went through her as she knelt above the decaying bodies of the people who had raised her. It brought tears to her eyes.

Hermione made a vow then and there. Even though she couldn't remember them, she knew her parents wouldn't want her wasting her life on the past. No one would want their daughter to waste away. She needed to move forward, for them, for Anna and Bradley Mason. She owed them that much, given that it was her fault they had died. She walked away from that cemetery vowing to forget about her memories. She would never try and remember them again.

Her life became simpler from there on out. She was able to get a nice job at an office, get a small group of friends, even a boyfriend for a while. Six years after she had made that vow, she was living well. She still hadn't broken it.

Until she ran into Draco Malfoy.

She didn't know what it was about him. She was certain she had never seen him before. She had lived in Pembroke, Canada for crying out loud. When would she have ever met a bad boy brit? (She could tell from the accent. She didn't even have an accent, of any kind.) Even though her memories were gone, Hermione was certain she had never met Draco Malfoy.

But.

He had called her Hermione. That had set off warning signs in her mind immediately. It wasn't a very common name. Not to mention, it seemed as if he recognized her the second their eyes had met. His grey orbs had showed her that much. This man was certain he knew her.

A small part of her hoped he did. Even though she had made the vow, even though she ignored it for years, she still had a burning urge to remember her past. She just never acted on it because she couldn't lose herself like that, not again. However, Hermione Mason couldn't lie to herself. She had been clinging to the possibility that he knew her, and could help her, until he said the word Granger.

Granger. He thought she was someone named Hermione Granger. She had never even met someone with that last name. She was Hermione Mason, not Hermione Granger, whoever that girl was. Draco obviously knew a woman that probably looked like her, with the same first name. It wasn't that unlikely. There must be another Hermione in the world with brown hair. From that moment on, she was sure that this man didn't know her.

She forced herself to walk away from him then. Talking to him further would do her no good. She needed to forget about her past, or lack thereof. The effort involved last time she had tried to remember her life nearly killed her. She didn't want to die now, she was enjoying her life. She wouldn't let it be messed up when she had the ability to keep it in order. So she told herself to forget about the strange man who recognized her. It didn't do to dwell on dreams and forget to live. And that's all the concept of her memories returning was. A dream.

She could barely sleep that night, or focus the next day at work. Her boss was going to scream at her tomorrow because of that. Yay. Anyway, she needed to forget about this man. He was nothing, he didn't matter. It didn't matter at all, she kept chanting to herself. But, the encounter was still bothering her, for one particular reason.

When she had met Draco's eyes, she had felt something. This something was a connection. It was faint, right in the back of her mind, but it was there. Maybe it was because he had recognized her, maybe it was because he was very attractive, she didn't know. But it was there. She had never felt a connection with someone before, not even with the man she dated for a little over two years. It shocked her, and made her question if this encounter was really with a stranger. But, Hermione was an intelligent woman. She knew she needed to forget him. She would never see him again; there were millions of people in the Toronto area. She wouldn't think about it. She couldn't lose herself. Not again.

So, as she walked home earlier that day, she was so focused on forgetting about Draco that she wasn't paying attention to anything around her. Until she walked into something. She landed on the ground. Someone had knocked her over.

Looking up, she didn't dare believe it. But there he was. Draco Malfoy was back, standing above him, in the same way he had been last night. He was still convinced that he knew her.

So now, it was the second time in two days where she had wanted to get her memories back. Draco reminded her of her yearning to remember her life. He caused her to ache for the past she was trying to outrun. He was messing up all she had worked so hard to forget. She didn't understand how he was doing it, but Draco Malfoy was making her want her memories back.

Draco stood before her, speaking to her. Hermione answered his questions, but she barely heard what he was saying. Something else was on her mind. A thought had just crossed it.

Hermione didn't believe in God, or any type of higher power. Personally, she didn't, though she didn't mind people having their own religions. That's up to them.

Hermione firmly believed that everything was up to her. There were no chances and no deity pulling the strings. However, after running into Draco twice, she started to believe in something new.

Fate.

Running into this man, this man who claimed to know her, who restarted her wish to get her memories back, this was not just a random incident. There was something else at work. Hermione, for the first time ever, believed in fate.

There were no coincidences. After years, there wasn't going to be some random guy on the street who thought she looked familiar. And that random guy was not going to show up twice. There was something else at work here.

It was fate that pulled her to this man. It was fate that pulled this man to her. It was fate that ignited this connection. It was fate that made her feel something for this man, after years of nothingness dominated her emotional range. It was all fate, and Hermione realized that now.

She met Draco's eyes once more and felt her heart contract for some strange reason. The connection intensified so much that it blinded her momentarily. Fate brought this man to her, and now it was up to her to find out what that meant. She had control now, but, she also knew that she couldn't let him get away again. If she tried to leave, forget about him, or vice versa, they would be drawn back to each other. She knew this to be true.

Fate has its ways.

(Draco's POV)

Hermione was still staring at him. Little did she know, an intense battle was raging in Draco's mind. Something had just occurred to him. He had found the Golden Girl of the Wizarding World, and he knew why she hadn't been found. He was the only person in the entire universe who had that information. So, what the hell did he do now? There were so many factors to consider, her life in Toronto, if her memory was really gone, how much he knew Potter missed her. How did he proceed? Did he bring her back to London? Did he leave her be? What was someone supposed to do in this type of situation?

"So, Draco," she said, jolting him out of his battle. Her eyes were wide and curious. "Who did you think I was, you know, when you were stuttering that you knew me?"

Draco shuffled uncomfortably. "Somebody that I used to know, but you treat me like a stranger, so I know you're not her" Draco said quickly. It was somewhat truthful; this wasn't really Hermione, or at least not the one he knew. "Seven years ago, she disappeared, right out of the blue. We looked everywhere, but we couldn't find her, not even a single trace. She's still considered a missing person."

"Seven years," Hermione mused. She looked thoughtful. Draco stared. Did he jog her memory? She met his eyes once more, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "That's slightly ironic. I was in a car crash seven years ago. I woke up in the hospital with cuts and bruises all over my body, and no memory. All I had was my I.D. Otherwise, I might be your girl, but I.D.s don't lie. Also, I'm not British."

Draco hadn't noticed her lack of accent up to this point. Now that it was pointed out to him, he still barely noticed. Hermione had one of those voices that sounded almost the same in all tongues and accents.

Something Hermione had said went through his mind once again. He almost snorted, but was able to control himself at the last second. I.D.s don't lie? How naïve was the girl? But Draco understood the rest of what she had said.

Someone had kidnapped her. Then they tortured her, probably to an unbearable extent. Then, once they had had their fun, they brought her over to Canada, erased her memory, and planted her in a muggle hospital, setting her on her merry muggle way. Rage temporarily blocked his vision. He saw red as he realized the extent of the horrific crime. How could someone do this to the poor bookworm? He vowed then and there to find the bastards who did this to her, and make them pay from ruining her life.

His sudden protectiveness of Granger took him by surprise. However, he let it slide. Anyone with a heart would feel for the girl once they realized what she had to go through. It was a wonder she survived at all. Also, the entire situation was weird, so he was allowed to have some weird reactions.

"I'm sorry Hermione," he said, more truthful than she had ever heard him before, not that she remembered of course.

"It's fine," Hermione shrugged, nonchalantly. She was so casual about the whole affair. "It was hard at first, but I grew strong. I don't really even remember the crash."

"Hmm," Draco replied, trying to hold back what he was bursting to say. That's because there was no crash, Draco thought cynically, shouting at the top of his mental lungs.

"Hey," she said interrupting his thoughts. A faint blush appeared on her cheeks. "Do you want to get coffee sometime? If you say no, I'm sure you'll run into me again. Fate has its ways." As she said that, a smile appeared on her face, her eyes lighting up at the truthfulness of her statement. Draco's eyes widened has he had a realization.

Fate. That's what it was. This day was fateful, not weird. Fate has its ways. Fate changed everything. It was fate that had brought him to the bookworm. It was fate that allowed him to realize what happened to her. Otherwise, without a little help from fate, probably, no one would ever have found the poor woman. What was the chance he would find Granger normally? There was no chance, it was nearly impossible. This was fate. And he wasn't one to disagree with a good thing.

"Sure," he responded, smiling. Her brown eyes lit up.

"Here's my number," she smiled, handing him a slip of paper, which she pulled out of her pocket.

"Thanks," he said, looking at the various numbers written down. He tried not to let the confusion on his face show. What did he do with the number? Muggles, they had no logic. "I have to go now, I'll…ummm…. Contact you later."

"Alright," she smiled. He smiled back, took one last look at her, turned and headed back to the hotel.

The walk back to the hotel was like a dream to Draco. Everything was blurry and he wasn't paying much attention. His mind was too occupied. He couldn't believe that after all this time; he had just run into Hermione. It was incredible how, after all this time, she hadn't really changed at all. More questions and thoughts raced through his mind. Who had done this to her? Draco pondered. Who had ripped her life away from her?

Once he got back to his room, he found two owls waiting for him. Curious, he walked over and ripped off the tawny owl's letter. It was from Seamus.

_Hey boss,_

_I've been getting your reports on the new place. It sounds great. However, I think, if you really want this to work, you should be there for a little while longer, and then you can come back. Good luck though, I'm sure the cold is competing with your icy soul._

_-Seamus_

Draco snorted. He would have to talk to Seamus about boss to employee relationships once he returned. He turned to the owl, a barn owl. It carried a letter from Blaise.

_Hey mate,_

_I hope the cold isn't killing you, but really, it's probably just competing with your icy soul. Why did everyone keep saying that? Anyway, I thought you should know, Harry's finally lost hope. He's accepted the truth. He's holding Hermione's funeral in several weeks. He said he can only hope for so long. I feel terrible for the guy honestly. It's on the twenty-fifth. I don't know if you want to come or not._

_Hope the beavers are being kind._

_-Blaise_

Draco threw the letter down, horrified. Potter was holding her service? Wasn't he the one who was never going to give up hope? And what a time to give up hope, just when Draco had found her. Now what was he supposed to do? How could he solve this situation? Draco still barely even understood what was happening. He made a decision, nodding to himself. He wasn't going to tell Blaise about Hermione until he understood more about what was happening, and what had happened. So it was decided. However, he needed to reply to the letter. Smiling to himself, he picked up a quill and wrote down a quick reply.

_Hey Blaise,_

_I'll be at the service._

_-Draco_

He put the quill down. Yes, he would be at the service. But, by the time he arrived, it would no longer be a funeral. Instead, Draco was expecting something a little more lively.

**We are moving along nicely in the stories. Originally, when I had this chapter, I just had the Draco's POV section, but then I thought, we need some Hermione up in here. So the Hermione POV section was born. The story, fyi, is still mainly going to be told from Draco's POV, with little Hermione POVs here and there. Anyway, now that's clear, let me know what you thought. Reviews and such. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys! Thanks for the reviews, favouriting, and following! Keep that up!**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter. Never will. On to the chapter!**

"_You are a lying, filthy mudblood, and I know it!"_

_A drawn-out, agonized scream rang through the air._

Draco bolted up in bed, gasping for air. Sweat was pouring down his face, and his entire body was shaking. He put his head in his hands, his fingers grasping at his hair roots. Breathe, Draco, breathe. He stood up shakily, and headed to the washroom, where he proceeded to splash water in his face, shivering like mad. He leaned against the counter and caught a glance of his reflection. He looked ghostly, his skin was white as a sheet, his pajamas were sticking to his body from sweat, and his eyes were wide with terror. He ran a hand through his hair, taking deep breaths, trying to slow his racing heartbeat.

Last night, he had another nightmare. Given that over the last few weeks, they had subsided somewhat, Draco had forgotten how real they felt. Last night had been a sharp reminder. Every moment had truly felt like reality. He couldn't escape it, no matter how hard he tried. He took another deep breath. He had forgotten how terrible they could be, and last night had been especially terrible.

He had been forced to relive that day at Malfoy Manor, the day where Potter, Weasley and Granger had been captured, and he had been forced to watch as Granger had been tortured. He gripped the counter and tried to breathe as the memories flew through his brain once more. They temporarily blacked out his vision. Once it was over, he slid down to the ground. His head fell into his hands. He could feel the sweat on his face. This was the worst type of nightmare, because he knew it was real. Sometimes, it was just miscellaneous torture and pain. But then sometimes, he got the horrible pleasure of reliving the worst moments of his life. And that day at Malfoy Manor was one of the worst moments of his life. He could still hear Hermione's screams echoing through his head…..

HERMIONE! All of the prior day's events came rushing back to him, blocking out the world for a moment. Being drunk, forgetting, finding her again, talking to her, and making plans to see her again. His heartbeat sped up once more, however not from fear, but from excitement. Hermione Granger, the muggle-born, the bookworm, member of the golden trio, war heroine, was a missing person no longer.

Draco smiled. This was a miracle. He had found her. Draco smiled blissfully at a wall for several moments before he realized something.

Yes, he had found Hermione Granger. But he had found a Hermione Granger with no memory, a Hermione who had no idea she was even missing. He had found her weeks before her funeral. He had reason to believe she had been exceptionally tortured before her memory was wiped. Yes, he had found Hermione, but he had no idea what to do about it. Draco groaned. What the hell did he do now? He had never been in a situation like this before, and he had been in many weird situations. He doubted most people had ever been in a situation remotely similar to this. Who randomly ran into their missing childhood enemy while on business? It never happened. This never ever happened. But when it did, of course it had to happen to him.

Draco took a deep breath and looked at his situation rationally. He was pulling a Hermione. Alright Draco, think. First things first, he had to find her again. Otherwise, any plans to get her back to London would be pointless. How did he find her? A memory from the day before flashed through his mind. Sweet.

Draco jumped up from his place on the washroom floor. He ran out into the main room and over to his desk. He glanced over it quickly, and spotted the little piece of paper she had handed him the day before, saying he could use it to contact her. Draco picked the piece of paper up. A series of random numbers were written across it. Draco stared blankly at it. He had never taken muggle studies, no Malfoy in history had, so he had no idea what to do with this. Panic began to set in again.

Alright, Draco, calm down. He wasn't completely alone. He had resources. He had Malfoy Industries. That was it. Maybe someone at work would know what to do with this collection of numbers. Perfect, he had a plan.

Draco rushed around the hotel room, dressing quickly. He had trouble buttoning up his shirt, because his fingers were still shaking a little. He had not forgotten his nightmare. He never would. But, he needed to move on, to get his job done. Hermione's screams were still echoing through his head as he grabbed some toast. Draco took several calming breaths and apparated to the office.

He walked through the front door to find Katie and Justin standing at Katie's desk. Draco walked over to them.

"Draco," said Justin, nodding in his direction. Katie smiled at him.

"Hey guys," Draco replied. "How are you?"

"Pretty good," Katie replied, snorting slightly.

Draco eyebrow's rose. "Hmm?"

Katie laughed for a moment. "Don't you hate small talk?"

Draco stopped talking for a moment. He did hate small talk. Why was he instigating it?

"Damn Canada," Draco muttered viciously. Justin and Katie laughed at him.

"So, Draco, small talk aside, what's up?" Justin asked, leaning against Katie's desk.

Draco glared at him for a moment, before continuing with his question. "How much do you know about muggles?"

"Fair bit," Katie said, her and Justin nodding at each other. "Muggle studies was a mandatory subject at the Canadian Wizarding Academy."

"Really?" Draco replied, surprised. It had never been mandatory at Hogwarts, not even for one year. Not even for a month. "Why?"

"Canadian wizards are really big on total equality; on accepting people not matter what. It doesn't matter if you're a muggle or if you're magical. They want us to learn about muggles to accept them, so everyone took seven years of muggle studies." Justin explained, shrugging slightly.

"Oh," Draco responded, a little surprised about that, but oh well. It was like Dumbledore ran Canada. Love, acceptance, equality, blah blah blah blah blah. But at the moment, this love and acceptance attitude was going to seriously help him. "Then I need your help." Katie and Justin glanced at each other and nodded, shrugging, looking slightly confused. He held out the piece of paper. "What is this and what do I do with it?"

Katie took it. She glanced over it quickly and smiled. "It's a phone number." Draco felt a dumbfounded expression cross his face.

"That's not very helpful," he said, as politely as possible. Damn Canada for making him polite.

Katie sighed and dove into a further explanation. "You type it into a machine called a phone and then wires and satellites send the voice waves to another phone. You are able to talk to someone when you aren't near them."

Draco was still confused. There were so many words in that sentence that didn't make any sense.

Katie sighed again. She reached into a pocket and pulled out a small, thin metal box, with buttons on it. Each button had a different number. Katie looked up at him. "Want to call this person now?" Draco nodded. Katie punched several different buttons then handed it to him.

"Hold it up to the side of your face and talk normally." Draco nodded skeptically. There was no way this little metal box could let him talk to Hermione. No way. Muggles were not that innovative.

Draco held the "phone" up to his ear. He heard a strange ringing noise coming from the little device. It was very annoying. Suddenly, the ringing stopped.

"Hello?" called a voice from the box. Her voice.

"Ummm, hi, Hermione," Draco stuttered. "It's Draco."

"Oh hey Draco!" she replied happily. It sounded as if she was really just standing next to him. Draco had a new respect for muggles. They could really be quite intelligent. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much," he responded. Katie burst out laughing, but clapped her hand over her mouth. Draco shot her a glare. It was rude to not participate in small talk, even if he hated it so very much.

"So, why'd you call?" Hermione, asked, curious. Oh yeah, he did have a reason for calling.

"Right. I was wondering, ummm, if you wanted to get coffee at the Tim Hortons on Young?" He randomly chose a coffee shop he had seen while walking to his hotel a few days beforehand.

"Sure!" She cried, delighted. "I love Tim Hortons. Want to meet there at four?"

"Sure," Draco said, a smile appearing on his face at the thought.

"Alright, see you then, Draco. Bye!"

"Bye," Draco finished. He heard a click. Hermione must have turned the phone off. He took the phone away from his face and handed it back to Katie. She pushed it back at him saying "you keep it for the moment." She then started looking him over curiously.

"Yes, Katie?" Draco asked, curious of her curiosity.

"Hermione…" she mused. "That name sounds really familiar…."

"Ummm, yeah…." Draco replied slowly. Warning bells went off in his head. No one could know about Hermione, not until he understood the situation more.

But how would Katie know about Hermione? Canada wasn't directly involved in the wizarding war. She didn't go to Hogwarts. She had no connection to Hermione, not even the newspaper….. fuck.

Draco remembered. Potter had splashed her face across every wizarding newspaper worldwide after she had disappeared in hopes of finding her. Damn it Potter.

"Hey wait a minute," Justin started, realization dawning on his face. He was a bit slower than Katie. "Isn't Hermione the name of the girl whose funeral is in a few weeks?"

"How the hell do you know that?" Draco asked sharply. This was not a good situation.

Justin looked at him curiously, confused by his sharpness. He reached over and handed him a paper that had been sitting on Katie's desk. He looked down on today's Toronto Prophecy. HERMIONE GRANGER, WAR HEROINE'S FUNERAL TO BE HELD IN THREE WEEKS. Oh fucking Potter, thought Draco, damning the chosen one once more.

"Ummmmm," Draco said slowly, looking for a plan of escape. He came up empty. Justin's eyes widened. He stuttered incoherently for a moment before speaking.

"Are they the same girl?"

Draco had no idea what to say. But, he trusted these two. Draco nodded. Justin and Katie gaped at him.

"You are meeting Hermione freaking Granger for coffee?" Katie asked, unbelievingly.

Draco sighed. "Yes."

Justin and Katie stared at him silently for a few minutes. Eventually Justin spoke.

"As in, the Hermione Granger, best friend to Harry Potter, war heroine, and missing for seven years?"

Draco smirked. "Well, she's found now."

Katie spoke. "You know Hermione Granger?" She sounded completely dumbfounded.

Draco chuckled. "I attended school with her for 6 years. She, Ronald Weasley, and the boy who lived were known as the Golden Trio. The Golden Trio and I, ummm, had an interesting relationship."

Justin and Katie looked even more shocked. "You know Harry Potter?" Katie whispered.

"We were enemies in school, now we are_ interesting_ acquaintances," Draco responded, reflecting on his relationship with the boy Potter.

Katie looked more shocked, if that was even possible. "That's incredible, but going back to the original subject. We can talk about Harry Potter later. How are you meeting Hermione Granger, when her funeral is next week?"

Draco looked at them. He motioned towards an empty office near the back. You never knew who was listening. They got up quickly and headed inside. Draco stared at them after closing and bolting the door. He cast several silencing charms over the room.

"What I am about to tell you is in the strictest confidence." Justin and Katie nodded. Katie looked desperate for the answer. "Hermione's body was never found, or any sign of her, for that matter. They still don't even know that she's officially dead, even if they're holding her funeral. My best friend is in charge of her case. I'd know. So anyway, after the hockey game, I ran into a woman. It was Hermione. But I was super drunk. So I forgot. The next day, I ran into her again. I found out seven years ago, she arrived in a muggle hospital, covered in cuts and bruises. She had no memory left, but was told her name was Hermione Mason. So, I believe that she was captured, her memory wiped and she was dumped in Toronto. I am going to bring her back to London after I understand her situation a bit more."

Justin and Katie just stared at him, eyes wide and jaws dropped. After five minutes, Justin spoke again.

"Well that sucks."

Draco smirked. "That basically describes everything."

**Review *cough, cough***


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello guys! Here's the next chapter! I have some cool other news, by the way. I wrote a cute little Dramione oneshot yesterday, called Nobody's Last Resort (go check it out.) Anyway, this morning I got a message saying someone wanted to translate it into Hebrew! How neat is that? Anyway, check that out, I was so excited when I got the message. Moving on from that, here's the next chapter. Thanks for following, favouriting and reviewing. Thanks to my fantastic beta, and all you readers. Keep being awesome.**

**Disclaimer: Fanfiction, means fans write it is. That's all I am, a fan of the glorious Jo Rowling. I don't own the characters. Or the setting, I don't own Canada.**

At four a clock, Draco stood in front of that Tim Hortons on Young Street. His hands were in his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels, looking around for Hermione. The bushy head was nowhere in sight. Draco started to sweat rather nervously. She needed to show up. She couldn't just disappear again. Draco checked his watch every five seconds while he waited anxiously. He was just checking his watch for the three hundred and ninety fourth time when someone tapped on his shoulder. He turned around.

There stood Hermione, her hair slightly wild and her eyes twinkling. She was wearing dark jeans with a nice black tank top. The simple outfit framed her body perfectly. Her hair was everywhere, but unlike their school days, it no longer looked like an animal had died on top of her head. It was windswept, majestically wild, framing her heart shaped face. Her big, bright, eyes were twinkling up at him. He had never noticed how deep the brown irises went. He could see down into her soul, her pure and good soul. There was a smile on her face, which seemed to light up the entire world around her.

Draco's heart stopped, stuttered, and sped up again, pounding faster than it had before he had seen Granger. He quickly became light headed, which was stupid because it was _Granger_. It was the bloody bookworm he had teased for years, and who had punched him in the face. It was the muggle-born who had been tortured on the manor floor. It was the little nerdy Gryffindork who had beat him in every subject. It was the girl who had been every teacher's pet but Snape's. This was Hermione Granger. He shouldn't get a pounding heart from simply looking at her. Hell, he shouldn't get a pounding heart from anything related to her.

Wrong. Weird. There was no reason for this. It's not like he _liked_ Hermione or anything. He never ever had. Ever. He shivered. Canada was driving him mad.

"Hey Draco," she said, breaking into his reverie. She smiled wide at him, and he returned it effortlessly.

"Hello Hermione," he said. "Shall we?" he asked, opening the Tim Horton's door.

"We shall," she replied, nodding as she walked through the door, Draco following her closely.

"How was your day?" she asked him, as they waited in line to get coffee. Draco was inhaling the scent of the store. It was basically a bakery with coffee as well. He began salivating for a doughnut he saw sitting behind the counter. It looked glorious.

"It was fine," he replied shrugging. "Did a bunch of non-specific company stuff."

"Non-specific?" she asked, catching his use of the word.

"Everything business related looks and sounds the same after several years of working."

Hermione snorted. A twinkle appeared in her eyes. "You must be amazing at business."

Draco smiled. "You'd be surprised."

From there, Draco and Hermione fell easily into a continuous conversation. This wasn't like the forced small talk he hated so much, or had previously hated, before Canada had made him polite. This conversation was easy, but not just simple meaningless sentences. They had no problem keeping a subject, switching to random topic after random topic. There were never any awkward silences, not a single one. It was incredible, Draco thought. Even his conversations with Blaise didn't flow as effortlessly as this one did. After years of hating each other, cursing each other, and only ever speaking when they were throwing insults at the other, they were able to speak comfortably and easily. Talking to Hermione felt as natural as breathing.

It seemed to Draco that this was a fresh start for their relationship. Everything that had caused a rift between them, namely his pureblood supremacy and their different houses at Hogwarts, had disappeared along with her memory. Without those things, Draco was surprised to learn, they genuinely liked each other. After twenty minutes of chatting amicably as if they were old friends, Draco had a sudden realization. Perhaps if there hadn't been those rifts and those meaningless differences, they would have actually been old friends, not just acting like it.

Draco could easily see himself being friends with Hermione, for many reasons. She was one of his only equals when it came to witty comebacks and intellect, and those two things were very important to him. Draco sighed. Strangely, he felt sad, as if he missed the friendship he never had. He shook off the random sadness, smiling at Hermione. He felt happy around her. It made him really wish he had gotten to know her so many years ago.

Throughout their conversation, Draco got a pretty good idea of the muggle version of Hermione. Draco was quite amused. It was basically the Hermione he had known, but mugglefied. It was the basically the same girl, but no magic involved. She still was obsessed with books. She was a huge civil rights advocate, just like her stupid association SPEW. She was obviously an introvert, just like she had been in school. She was still very intelligent, he could tell simply from her word choices. The Hermione he knew had survived.

Hermione was now living happily in the muggle world. She was working as a secretary in some big corporation downtown, shockingly, only blocks from the Malfoy Industries office. Hermione had obviously continued the life she would have lived in the wizard world, just without magic. It was a little chilling for Draco, hearing about her life, knowing that magic wasn't a part of it. It was unnatural. It was wrong. Hermione belonged in the magical world.

For Draco, thinking that Hermione belonged in the magical world was a strange and foreign the thought had first crossed his mind, he spat out some of his coffee, which, by the way, was excellent. Tim Hortons had excellent coffee. Anyway, the idea shocked him. He had spent so many years believing the opposite. Muggle-borns being in the magical world was an atrocity, an abomination of nature. This was the environment he had grown up in and the beliefs he had believed for so long. Now, it became clear how wrong that was. Hermione was the most magical person he had ever met, even though her ancestry suggested otherwise. Draco had an epiphany. Hermione without magic, this was the real atrocity, this was the abomination of nature. Draco saw that clearly now.

After the war, Draco had managed to get over his prejudices somewhat, but they had never _really_ disappeared. They were always there, lingering in the back of his mind, fighting to emerge in his everyday life. He had tried to get over them, he really had, but he had never been able to. Until now. Hermione was living proof that his beliefs were wrong. She was meant to be magical, heritage be damned. Draco felt a rush of air go through him. His old beliefs evaporated on the spot. His vision cleared. The world seemed to brighten. He felt liberated. The pure blood supremacy had been weighing him down for years. Now it was absolutely and truly gone. All thanks to Hermione. This woman was changing him immensely, and he wasn't upset about that fact in the slightest.

After a few hours of talking about random subjects and Hermione, they got around to the subject of Draco's life and past. He'd been trying to avoid the subject, keeping the conversation mainly focused on her. He became immediately wary when the first question had been asked, knowing he had to tread lightly around her.

"Ummm, well," he started, when she had asked him about his early life. "I grew up in England." With those words, Hermione began to gaze dreamily into the distance.

"I've always wanted to go to England. It seems like such a beautiful country."

Draco nodded, smiling dryly. He tried not to let a single emotion flicker on his face, or it'd be suspicious. He quickly continued with his early life story.

He told Hermione about living in a manor, going to an "elite" boarding school, and then starting his business. He tried to give no specifics, keeping it vague. Maybe she'd think he was being mysterious. Girls liked that. At least he thought so, which meant it was true.

"What does your business do?" she asked curiously.

"Ummm…business stuff," he replied hastily, not going into details. Mysterious was good. Hermione smiled slightly.

"Business stuff….specific," she replied, chuckling a bit. "What was your boarding school like?"

"Well," Draco started, trying to keep his emotions in check. This was going to be a hard conversation. "It was in Scotland. It was in a big old castle that someone had converted into a boarding school somehow. Umm…we all stayed in big dormitories….we got to visit the village sometimes…"

"What was it called?" Hermione asked, interested.

"Hogwarts," Draco blurted out hopefully. No recognition showed her face. Damn it, Draco sighed. He hadn't really been expecting anything, but he couldn't help hoping she'd remember the name of her home of six years.

"Strange name for a school," she mused.

"It was a strange school," Draco stated honestly. At least, it would've been strange by muggle Hermione standards. They both laughed at his joke, and Draco subtly changed the subject. They easily conversed once more.

Before Draco knew it, he had been chatting with Hermione for four hours. One of the Tim Hortons employees eventually asked them to leave, loitering and such. They were super Canadian about it though, the employee even said please while kicking them to the curb. Bloody Canadians. Hermione and Draco ended up wandering around downtown Toronto. They were still chatting, amazingly. They still had not run out of topics to burn through. However, everything came to an end. After an hour of wandering the streets, Hermione told him she had to go.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed. The Canadian in her showed once more. "I have some work I've got to get done, and I don't have any time tomorrow."

"I understand," Draco nodded, trying not to show his disappointment of her emanate departure on his face .

"Oh, Draco, before I go" Hermione started, seeming nervous. She quickly brushed a piece of hair behind her ear. "Can I ask you a favour?"

"Sure," Draco responded, trying to hide his shock. What favour would _the Hermione Granger_ need from him? What favour would a Gryffindor have from a Slytherin? This had to be a first in wizarding history.

"Well…ummm….I have this formal gala tomorrow. It's a work thing, our company is doing something so we have to gala to go to. I honestly don't understand it. Anyway, I was wondering, would you possibly…..umm… accompany me? My ex-boyfriend is going to be there, and I don't really want to face him alone."

"Ex-boyfriend?" Draco asked, curiously.

"Yep," Hermione grimaced in memory. "We were together for a couple years, and then he cheated on me with some cheap slut. Turns out he'd been cheating on me almost the entire time we were together. He works in the company, and luckily I've been able to avoid him since. But tomorrow there's no way I can get around seeing his stupid ginger head."

"Ginger?" Draco asked, unbelieving. He must have heard her wrong.

"Yep," she said, grimacing even more. "The bastard's a redhead, covered with freckles. I used to think they were cute, but now I can't stand the sight of them, on anyone for that matter. I'm glad I only have a few."

Draco stared, trying not to laugh. She hadn't only mugglefied her life, but her friends and relationships as well. Her best girlfriend was probably just a muggle Weaslette, and there must be a muggle Potter running around causing mischief. And of course, the weasel. Stupid muggle version of Weasley for breaking her heart.

"Well," Draco smirked, a plan unfolding in his mind. This was going to be fun. "I'll come. And I will make Weasle…uhhh… _the weasel_ who cheated on you exceptionally jealous. Who wouldn't be when their ex-girlfriend is going to a gala with this sexy beast," he smirked as he gestured towards his body.

Hermione burst out laughing. It took her several moments to gain control of herself. Still chortling, she was able to choke out, "you keep on believing that, Draco."

"Hey!" Draco responded, slightly offended. He was a total sexy beast. He sighed, and let it slide anyway. "So what time am I picking you up tomorrow?"

"Seven, at this address, if you could," she replied, handing him another slip of paper. Did she just walk around with her personal information written down on little pieces of paper? "It's formal, so wear a tux, please."

"No problem, Hermione," Draco smiled. "I'll be there."

She smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks Draco, I really appreciate it." He returned the smile. "See you tomorrow," she waved at him and walked away, quickly disappearing into a crowd of people.

Draco turned around and headed back to his hotel, whistling on his way. He felt strangely joyful. This was like some ridiculous scenario, Hermione asked him to help make her ex-boyfriend, the weasel of the muggle world, jealous. He couldn't help it, he was excited. He had always hated the Weasel, even more than he had hated Potter. Now, he gets to screw with the muggle version. This was fantastic.

He arrived at the hotel, and quickly got to his room. He flopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling, questioning all the different ways he could ruin the Weasel's night. However, one question reigned supreme in his mind. Why would Hermione fall for the god damn Weasel King, not only in the magical world, but in the muggle as well? He had no redeeming character traits, he couldn't hold an intelligent conversation to save his life, and he wasn't attractive in any way, shape or form. His stupid freckles were so distorting and his head looked like it was on fire all the time. How had Hermione liked this guy? Seriously…..it was stupid. Hermione was smart, charming, kind, and beautiful. She deserved so much better than the Weasel, so why did she fall for him? Draco rolled over, his eyes drifting shut. She deserved so much better.

**Reviewreviewreviewreview. Please. :)**


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, Draco rolled out of bed, in crumpled clothes and with a grumbling stomach. He groaned. He must have fallen asleep right after he got home from meeting Hermione. He stood up and meandered over to the kitchen section of his hotel room. He grabbed some toast, buttered it, and was just taking a bite when he realized something. The toast nearly slipped through his fingers.

He had slept through the night, without any dreams or nightmares. His mind had been black for the entire evening. Draco took a deep breath, wondering if this, itself was a dream. But no, he was awake. And he was free. He was free of the fear, of the terror. He felt as if he didn't have a care in the world. His mind was free of the things that had been pressing down on it for years. Draco felt pure ecstasy course through him. He had a dreamless sleep. He couldn't even remember the last time that had happened.

That was a lie. Draco could easily remember the last night this he had a dreamless sleep. It had been his last night without any worries or cares or problems. It had been the last night he slept as a normal child. It was the night before his life, and the life of everyone in the world has drastically changed.

June 23, 1995 was the night before the third task of the Tri-wizard Tournament, and the last peaceful night of Draco's life. He was a normal teenager, his only cares being whether or not he was failing Transfiguration. The next night, he found himself thrust into adulthood.

When Potter had landed in the middle of the stands, clutching the lifeless body of Cedric Diggory, Draco felt cold wind rush through the air. The boy wonder was shouting about Voldemort's return. The second the words left the chosen one's lips, Draco had frozen. He knew it was true. Potter may be an attention whore, but he would never lie about this. The letter Draco received from his father later that evening was only proof of what he already knew.

From there on out, every night he was plagued with nightmares of the Dark Lord, of dreams of power. He never again had a dreamless sleep, especially not in the last seven years. Until last night. It seemed now, all these years later, his mind was finally free. He had endured so much hardship, and now, the burden had been lifted. He breathed in, treasuring the freedom he felt. He felt slightly disoriented in the bliss. Then, he looked at the clock. Draco came crashing back down to earth.

It was six fourty-five. It was six fourty-five, _pm_. Damn it! The Slytherin had managed to sleep for nearly twenty-four hours. How the hell had he done that, when even several weeks before, he found himself waking every few hours from raging nightmares. Well done Draco, he thought smugly. Sleeping for 24 hours straight, that requires skill. He reveled in the level of sleep he had just received, until the repercussions hit him.

He had managed to sleep through an entire day of work. That was a lot of time missed since he was starting a new office. Even more serious than that, he remembered his agreement with Hermione. He had approximately fifteen to get ready and pick her up. Draco took a deep preparation breath, and became a whirlwind of activity.

He scarfed down the rest of his toast, closely followed by a glass of water so he didn't pass out. Brushing bread crumbs of his shirt, he rushed to the bathroom and had the fastest shower of his lifetime. He used magic to dry his hair, which made him cringe. He usually took such care of it, letting it dry naturally and using several products on it to keep it healthy. But now, he simply had no time.

Draco ran over to his suitcase, and grabbed the tuxedo he had brought over from England. He was a Malfoy, and Malfoy's always travelled with a tuxedo. You never knew which high class party you could be invited to. He threw it on. It took him five minutes to get the bowtie on. His fingers were shaking in the hurry, so he managed to strangle himself instead of making the traditional bow. The strangled look wasn't in this year, so he had to redo it several times before managing to get it right. Draco ran back to the mirror and quickly fixed his hair. When he deemed himself satisfactory for screwing with the muggle Weasel, he picked up the address Hermione had given him, and glanced at the clock. It was now six fifty seven. Time to go.

As he rushed out the door, the amazingness of his night prior popped into his head once more. He had been missing out on sleep for about 10 years as well. It seemed that being with Hermione had relaxed him so much, that all the stress of the last ten years had just seeped out of him. Now his body was trying to catch up on all the sleep it had missed. Thank wizard god for Hermione, he found himself thinking. She had helped him without even trying. This woman, he mused, rushing to the elevator. A thought crossed his mind, and he smirked. She had helped her, and now, he was going to help her. As the elevator took him downwards, he took out Katie's phone, and made one final call, before heading to Hermione's.

He arrived at a townhouse somewhere in downtown Toronto. He could see the CN tower just a few blocks away. It was a very large tower. He stood mesmerized for several moments before remembering what he was supposed to be doing. Draco walked up to the door numbered 12, and knocked three times. He was only standing there for a few seconds before Hermione opened the door. Draco began to say hello, but the words got caught in his throat. He looked at the beautiful woman standing before him. His eyes must have been bugging out of their sockets. Hermione smirked at his reaction.

Hermione was normally a very attractive woman, Draco recognized that. She was very pretty in her everyday life. Actually she was so pretty normally that, secretly, Draco thought there was no way for her to become more beautiful. Challenge completed.

Her hair was left down, for which Draco was thankful. She looked majestic whenever it was down. Her hair was one of her best features. The brown curls were cascading down her back. Her skin was tan, and glowing, from happiness or makeup, Draco didn't know. She was wearing a strapless dark green dress that went down to the floor. There were silver jewels accentuating various parts of her body. Draco's mouth went dry. The dress was straight, and a slit went up from the ground to about mid-thigh. The heels she was wearing made her legs go on for kilometres. Draco's mouth was now as dry as sandpaper.

Hermione saw where his eyes were looking, and her smirk grew pronounced. Draco pulled his eyes away from her body and up to her face. Her eyes were bright; her lashes full, bushing her face each time she blinked. Her lips were looking particularly luscious this evening. How had he never noticed them before? Hermione, overall, was wearing minimal makeup. She obviously didn't need any. Draco tried to find a word to describe her appearance. Glorious seemed to stick.

"Ummm….you look great," Draco stuttered, his heart hammering. She let out a giggle, but Draco barely noticed. His head was pounding, and he couldn't really think about anything but her beauty. He recognized this feeling. Draco had felt this way before, way back in their fourth year, at the Yule Ball. He would always remember the feeling….

_Draco stood in the hall, along with all the other students, awaiting the arrival of the champions. Pansy, in her frilly dress, was hanging on to his arm, yapping in his ear, driving him mad. He was blocking her out, just being thankful that she looked decently pretty. Pretty and pureblood was perfect. He just needed to ignore her and life would be splendid. Suddenly, the doors opened, and the champions all strode in. _

_Potter kept looking at his feet, if trying to not trip. Draco snorted. What a moron. On his arm was Parvati Patil, who looked smug at her position, on the arm of the famous Harry Potter. Roger Davis looked dazed, with Fleur Delacour, on his arm. Fleur looked beautiful, which was to be expected. Diggory was smiling nervously, with a pretty Asian on her arm. Draco couldn't remember her name. Bo Hang? Lo Fang? Something like that. Then there was Krum, with a gorgeous girl on his arm. Draco didn't recognize her immediately, as he stopped to admire her beauty. He'd rather have this girl on his arm. _

_The girl had beautiful brown hair tied up in a high bun. She was wearing blue robes that framed her body perfectly. Her big brown eyes were sparkling, and she had a smile on her face. Draco stared at her. He felt shock run through his body. He finally recognized her. It was Granger._

_Draco couldn't believe it. How did the hideous mudblood clean up so nicely? Who even knew she was pretty? That wasn't even the right word, and Draco knew it. Granger was _beautiful_. _

_Draco just stared at her. He was completely dumbfounded. His eyes never left her, from the second she walked into the hall. He was dancing with Pansy, but his eyes were still on Hermione. _

_He had gotten very drunk later in the evening, and all he remembered about that night was Hermione walking in. He didn't know why, but her beautification had stayed with him. There were tons of pretty girls, but Hermione was different. She wasn't pretty, she was glorious._

Draco felt the same surprise now. He had come up with the same conclusion now as he had then. She wasn't pretty, she was glorious.

"You look pretty good, yourself," she smirked.

"I always do," Draco said. His voice lacked it's usually superiority. He was so flustered. Shaking if off, he offered Hermione his arm. " Shall we?"

"Again, we shall," she smiled, taking it. They walked down to the curb, and Hermione looked around to hail a cab, but Draco stopped her.

"Hermione," he smiling down at her. Even with her heels, she was still shorter than him. "I'm here to mess with the ginger. That starts now." Hermione looked at him confused, and Draco pointed to a limo parked down the street. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Really?" she asked.

"Hey, if there's one thing I know, it's how to annoy someone," Draco replied, leading her to the door of the limo. He opened the door and she stepped in. Hermione told the driver the address, and they were off. Draco spent the entire ride just staring at Hermione. He was very amused that Hermione was wearing Slytherin colours. She looked amazing in the green and silver though. They suited her very well. Draco eyes grazed over her once more. Very, very well.

The limo stopped. The driver came around and opened the door for Hermione. She walked out, closely followed by Draco. Draco handed the driver some muggle cash that he had on him, took Hermione's hand. She seemed slightly surprised, but didn't pull away. Draco was surprised himself. What possessed him to do that? The two started walking up to the hotel where the gala was taking place. Draco turned to Hermione.

"So what is this gala for anyway?" he asked.

"Oh, um, the corporation gave a huge sum of money to some charity, so all the employees got invited to this gala that the charity was holding."

Draco nodded as they headed through the doors. They were in a big ballroom, with many tables, many people, and many glasses of champagne. Thank merlin, Draco thought.

Hermione and he were barely in the door when a voice shouted out to them. Hermione turned, and swore brilliantly under her breath. Draco stood there, impressed, for a moment, before he noticed the reason for her exceptionally crude language.

A man and woman were walking towards them. The woman looked like a supermodel, very textbook beautiful, though she had nothing on Draco's date. The man was very tall and had bright red hair. Draco swore himself now. The couple walked up to them, the man smirking, and chuckling at them. Draco glared at him. Ginger, freckles, he knew who this way. He knew something else as well.

He wasn't going to like this guy.


	10. Chapter 10

**Nothing new to report. Thanks to all my lovely reviewers, followers and favouriters (is that a word?). You guys rock. Thanks to my amazing beta. Everyone keep being awesome. If you haven't already, check on the one shot I wrote, on my page. That's about it. **

**Disclaimer: I can't afford new shoes, I sure as hell can't affor the Harry Potter rights.**

"Hello Hermione," said the ginger, fake politeness seeping through his voice. He was chuckling with superiority. Then he caught sight of Draco. His chuckle stopped and his face froze, now seeming slightly angry. "Who's your friend?" His eyes narrowed ever so slightly at that last word.

"This is Draco Malfoy," she replied with equally fake politeness. Draco was proud. "He's a friend of mine, from England." The ginger's eyes narrowed at their intertwined hands.

"Well, hello, _sir_," the ginger said, giving him a curt nod. Calling Draco sir seemed to physically hurt him. "I'm Jackson Memoria, I'm one of the top employees at the company. Oh, silly me, how could I have forgotten? This beautiful girl is my lovely and fantastic girlfriend, Annabella Thomas." At this Memoria bent in and kissed his girlfriend on the cheek.

Draco felt Hermione wince at the word girlfriend. Her face clearly demonstrated the hurt. He automatically took his arm and wrapped it around her waist, very protectively. Draco pulled Hermione closer towards him. She curled into him, embracing his attempt and comfort. She looked up at him, her eyes thankful. Draco turned his head and narrowed his eyes at the ginger menace. This bastard was going down.

"Pleasure," Draco said crisply, replying to the ginger's greeting.

"So Hermione," said ginger, chuckling slightly once more. "Where'd you pull this out of," he said, gesturing at her body. Draco flinched. "Lord knows you didn't show that off while we were together, before Annabella." He kissed the giggling blonde bimbo who was hanging off his arm once more. Draco turned to Hermione, waiting to comfort. She didn't seem to need it.

Hermione was expressionless, as if the hurt she had felt mere seconds before had just disappeared. Her face embodied the epitome of not caring. She looked bored.

"Well, when we were together, I had no one to show off for," she replied smirking. Draco had to bite his lip to stop from laughing. Hermione was witty. He had forgotten.

Annabella laughed. "You're really funny, Hermione!" She sounded completely genuine. Draco had met girls like this before. So nice, so naïve, and with no idea what was going on. Why else would the air head think a thinly veiled insult towards her boyfriend was funny.

The ginger obviously didn't think it was funny. "Oh, Hermione," he smiled dryly. His eyes narrowed. "Aren't you hilarious?"

Draco hated this man. He'd known him for three minutes, and he hated him already. However, Draco smiled. He knew how to deal with people he hated.

Draco leaned down to Hermione's ear. "Pretend I'm saying something funny." Hermione abided, and let out a girlish giggle, looking up at him with fluttering eyes. He caught a wink. Draco smirked.

The ginger looked very angry at the apparent relationship between him and Hermione. What a jackass, Draco thought. This ginger obviously wanted to see Hermione suffer after their relationship ended. He couldn't stand the thought of her being happy, because it meant she was happier without him, which meant he wasn't the most amazing thing in the world. Because the bastard couldn't face that fact, he had to make her suffer instead. At least when Draco wanted Hermione to suffer, he hadn't dated her first.

"So what is your job, Mr. Malfoy?" Ginger asked, narrowing his eyes at Draco. Draco broke out of his thoughts.

"I own a private company," Draco started, as he drew Hermione closer to him. Ginger chuckled and rolled his eyes. The jackass didn't believe him.

Draco glared at him. Why would Hermione date this creep? Seriously, he thought she had much better judgment then that. She had always been extraordinarily wise, besides that small hiccup known as Weasley. This guy, what was his name? Right, Tom Memoria was a total jackass, flaunting women on his arms and only caring about money and jobs. Ginger reminded Draco a lot of his father, which was never a good thing. Well, Draco thought, he knew out to deal with men like this. Time to start the show.

"I also live a lot with the family money," Draco said smugly, in a manner very similar to how he would speak back at Hogwarts. "Old English money." He watched as the Ginger's smug look flickered.

"Well, that's very interesting," Ginger replied, rather rudely.

"Isn't it?" Malfoy responded, equally rude. He heard Hermione chuckle. He smiled at her. He turned back to Ginger. "My family is one of the British elite. I spend most of my time at the Manor. Hermione here is one of my dearest friends though, and I simply had to pay her a visit." With this he sent a wink Hermione's way.

"Hermione never mentioned you," Ginger said stiffly.

"She never mentions me to her boyfriends," Draco said smirking. Hermione shot him a look. She needed to calm herself. He knew where he was going with this. "She and I are so close, that she's afraid they might get jealous. I can't imagine why."

The look on Ginger's face was pure gold. His face was red enough to rival that of that of the original ginger, Ronald Weasley. Draco could practically see smoke coming from his ears.

"While, Memoria," Hermione started. "We must be going. Bye." With that she pulled away from Draco slightly, and began to pull him farther into the ballroom. Draco looked back over his shoulder as shot one last look at the ginger.

His face was bright red and he was practically huffing. The bimbo stood next to him, chattering aimlessly, unaware of her date's rage. The ginger made eye contact with Draco once more. Draco smirked. Boy that was fun.

Hermione was still leading him through the ballroom. She quickly found the two of them an empty table by a window. Draco could see the lights of Toronto glittering off the lake. Draco fell into one of the seats. Turning towards Hermione, who had also taken a seat, he spoke.

"That guy is a jackass," Draco said curtly. Hermione shot him one look, and burst out laughing.

"Tell me about it," she chuckled, shaking her head.

"Why did you date him?" Draco asked, completely mystified. Seriously, no one would be dumb enough to date that moron.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, I've always just felt…. something_ special_ for red-heads."

Weasley would be pleased, Draco thought. She hasn't completely forgotten him. The idea made Draco cringe.

Hermione turned towards him. "Where did all that about us being best friends and my many boyfriends being jealous come from?"

It was Draco's turn to chuckle. "I know men like that. They don't like thinking their ex-girlfriends had anything before them or have the capacity to forget about them once they're finished. They also have to be permanent bastards."

Hermione nodded, slightly humored. "I have forgotten him, you know. I've completely moved on. He's just hard to deal with, because of his uncanny ability to be an ass. But when I saw him tonight, I didn't feel anything at all. But you're right, he has continued to be a permanent bastard to me, even though we broke up a while back."

Draco raised his eyebrow. "I thought you said you've been able to avoid him."

Hermione grimaced. "I have."

Draco wasn't following. "Then what'd he do?"

Hermione ignored the question. "I used to be the senior executive head of marketing, you know."

"Really?" Draco replied, impressed. He knew enough about business to know a long title like that meant you were very important. "I thought you said you were a secretary."

"I am now," she frowned. "When I first came to the company, I was exceptionally lucky. I had no real experience or education, but they gave me a low level job. I was so good at my job that within a few years I was the head of marketing. The problem," she sighed. "is that Mr. Memoria is vice-president."

Hermione scoffed. "After he admitted he cheated on me, he demoted me to secretary. Apparently he wanted to fire me, even though _he_ cheated on me and _he_ broke up with me. Bastard. Anyway, I'm too valuable to the company. The President wouldn't let him. Memoria had to find a way keep me around."

She huffed. "So now I'm just another secretary. Doing paperwork, answering phone calls, my job is something a kid in middle school could do! I'm better than that, I know it. But no, my excellent career was cut short by a sly bastard who always has to win." She leaned back in her seat and glared at an empty space on the wall."

Draco looked out across the ballroom. He caught sight of the ginger, who was talking to some men in tuxedos. He caught the ginger's eye and sent his deadliest glare across the room. Draco saw him go visibly ashen.

"I'm sorry Hermione," he said, turning back to her.

She shrugged. "It's fine. There are other people in the world suffering far more than I. Who am I to complain about unfair work when there are people fighting for their lives in wars?" Draco managed to keep his face straight. "I'm just being dramatic. Let's talk about something else."

"Alright," Draco said, leaning forward. "Your choice."

She eyed him. "You know, I still don't know that much about you."

"Oh?" he replied nervously.

"Let's change that."

Draco tried not to freak out. Putting on his best smile, he nodded, trying to look excitement at this new topic of discussion.

"So Draco," Hermione started. "Tell me about your school days."

He definitely had reason to be nervous. How the hell could he proceed from here? He wasn't like Hermione; he had no muggle experiences what so ever. His life had been completely magic all the time, right from the beginning. Not to mention the giant wizarding war he had been involved with. He couldn't tell her that, and that was all he really knew. Draco didn't have an average life.

Alright Draco, think. He was a Slytherin after all; he knew how to think quickly in a tricky situation. Quickly analyzing the situation, he realized he had two options. One, he could lie completely and make up a generic life, or two, he could de-magic everything, and hope to maybe jog her memory a bit. He sighed. He didn't know what to do. He was in a pickle.

Draco looked at Hermione. Her wide eyes were eyeing him curiously. Amazement coursed through him briefly, as he realized what his current situation was. He, Draco Malfoy, was hanging out with _the_ Hermione Granger. Not to mention he was with her by choice. The two of them were acting like friends and had just mutually complained about her ex-boyfriend. Now, she was asking him out about his life, as if she actually cared. He just stared at her, his astonishment probably evident in his expression. He jolted back to reality, and decided what to tell her.

"I went to a boarding school in Scotland. It was a ginormous castle, with many towers and turrets. It was situated right next to a lake. We all used to swim there when it was warm. I hardly ever admitted it, but I loved it there. It was basically my second home. Sometimes it felt more like home than my real one. But like I said, I would never admit to it. I was a really spoiled and egotistical kid. My head was huge. I always acted like I hated the school, but that was just my attempt at being superior. It seemed like a weakness to love school. I could never be weak; I always had to be the best. Luckily, my house really did think I was the best."

"House?" Hermione asked, completely engrossed in what he was telling her.

Draco nodded, and continued hesitantly. "At school, we got sorted into different houses. From the moment we arrived got there, we belonged to a certain group, based on what house we were sorted into."

"How did they sort you?" Hermione asked.

Now Draco was very hesitant. "We…um…..took a quiz! Yes, we took a quiz to get a rough idea of our personalities. Then they put us with people who had similar personalities."

Hermione frowned. "That seems like it could have made a lot of mistakes."

Draco nodded, thinking of Snape, the Slytherin dying a Gryffindor death. "And sometimes it did."

Hermione grew quiet for a moment, before nodding at him to continue.

"We had classes, played sports, and slept with our houses. There were four houses. The house I got sorted into…ummm…had a bad reputation."

"Why'd you guys have a bad reputation?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Ummmm…..we were considered the_ rebel _house," Draco said, treading lightly. This was a difficult subject. "We were the bad ones, who were sly and sneaky. Being in that house taught me a lot, but sometimes I wondered how much of a disadvantage being in Slytherin caused me."

"Slytherin?" Hermione questioned. Shit! Draco hadn't meant to say that.

"Umm, yes, that was the name of my house," Draco said, looking over her face for a sign of recognition.

She looked thoughtful. "What were the other house names?"

Merlin, this was proving difficult. "There was Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor." He said the final house slowly, searching her face for just a smidgen of recognition. He came up short.

She simply looked curious. "What did each house represent?"

If he managed to get through this without dying of stress, he would be surprised. "Ravenclaws were the very intelligent. Hufflepuffs were, well, I'm not quite sure what the hell a Hufflepuff is. Gryffindor swere supposed to be the brave." Still no sign of recognition. "Slytherin was the cunning and ambitious house."

"Cunning and ambitious," Hermione nodded. "No wonder you went into business."

Draco gave a quick laugh, and tried to move away from that subject.

"Anyway, school was always fun. I had my close group of friends, I was on the sports team. I thought I was on top of the world. There was only one downer, that I was second in my class." Draco scowled. He was still not over that.

"Only second?" Hermione chuckled. "Oh, the shame."

"Haha," he muttered sarcastically. He explained further. "There was one girl who always beat me in every class. She shouldn't have beaten me, she was a mud…uh…. a girl from a family, where I didn't really expect brains. Yet she had more brains than the majority of our entire class put together. Boy, did she change my views. Anyway, she was a total nerd, always in the library pouring over books. It was incredible to me. But she cared about school so much, it was slightly admirable" Draco finished softly, as he realized who he was describing the renowned bookworm to.

Hermione was looking at him, a knowing smile playing on her lips. There was no recognition in her expression, but something similar to amusement. After staring at him for a moment, she spoke. "You liked this girl, didn't you?"

Draco's eyes popped out. What…the…fuck?! He froze, taking a moment to process what she had just said. There was no way she had just said that! No way! Ever! How could Hermione think that he, Draco Malfoy, had liked the bookworm? Her memory loss and time in Canada must have made her insane.

"No!" Draco responded, finding that he lacked coherency. He tried to continue. He needed to end this ridiculous theory. "We hated each other! Ummm…. I teased her all the time…she punched me in the face once….." Hermione burst out laughing at that.

"Wounded your ego, eh?" she chuckled. "No, I'm sure of it. You totally liked this girl! Tell me about her."

Draco sat there, gaping, and floundering at this….ridiculous…..conclusion. When she got her memory back, he hoped she got her sanity as well. He didn't know how to respond to her request either. How do you describe someone to that someone while not giving away any specific details about that person's life? Draco slumped down in his chair. He was in such a ridiculous scenario.

"Ummm, she was the bookworm of the school," Draco started, uncertain of how to proceed. "She was in the most popular house in the school as well, and she was best friends with the most popular guy. She, this guy, and some other guy formed something called the golden trio. She was the nerdy part of the group. The two guys kind of used her to help with their schoolwork, but deep down, I know they really cared about her." Draco flashed back to Potter's crying face in Blaise's office.

"She was a character. She had strange ideals, but she stuck by them, always. She was compassionate. She was fierce, and extremely loyal. She always stood up for herself and her friends." He could still feel the broken nose she had once given him. "She was one of the strongest people I've ever known." Her screams at Malfoy Manor echoed through his head once more. He had to cling to the table to stop from shivering.

Draco stopped talking just then. He gripped the table once more. All of his memories of Granger seemed to be flashing through his mind as he stared out into space. The first time he had ever seen her, a little bushy haired and bucktoothed girl who ran up to the sorting hat and jammed it on her head. The time she had told him off when he had just became the Slytherin seeker and in response, he called her a mudblood, for the first time of many. She punched him in the face, changing his view of her forever. He felt the curse fly through the air from the time he made her two front teeth grow substantially. He felt the shock from when he had seen her walk into the Yule Ball on Victor Krum's arm. The time when she stopped the boys from antagonizing him after he had been made a member of the inquisitorial squad. Then, he saw when she, Potter and weasel were all brought to Malfoy Manor. He had lied when asked if he recognized them. Immediately after, he had been forced to watch Hermione as she screamed and withered in agony on to floor. He saw all of this in less than a second.

Looking forward, he saw as Hermione still sat before him. He felt a pang in his chest. She didn't remember any of the times that had just flashed through his mind, and they were some of his most prominent memories. He cherished the time he had spent at Hogwarts, and she didn't remember a second of it. Unfair didn't seem to cover it. He, once again, felt white hot rage flash through him as he thought of the unknown bastards that had done this to her. He would find them and make them pay. He promised.

"You ok, Draco? You're looking at me strangely," she said, waving her hand in front of his face. She seemed a bit nervous.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he responded softly. Fine was the farthest from how he felt.

"Oh," she sighed, relaxing. "Well, about that girl, you can keep denying it, but I know you liked her."

Draco didn't respond. He didn't even know if he _could _deny it.

"What was her name?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Ummm…..let's just call her, _her_," Draco decided.

"Alright," Hermione said, a smile playing on her lips. "When was the last time you saw her?"

"When I left school," Draco replied. It was true, that was the last time he had seen magical Hermione.

Hermione smirked. "Long time, eh?"

"I doubt she'd even remember me," Draco replied, relishing the irony of the statement, as he stared at his shoes.

"Forget you?" Hermione giggled. "I doubt that's even possible."

He looked up at her, through his locks, which had fallen over his eyes. "You'd be surprised."

Their eyes met. Draco lost total sense of his surroundings. He could only see Hermione's eyes, deep and trusting. He felt as though he was staring into her soul. For a second, he thought he saw a flash of recognition. His heart sped up. Did she remember? But then she broke contact, and the recognition was gone.

Hermione's eyes stayed downcast for a moment. When she looked back at him, there was no sign of recognition in them, though now, they were slightly wary.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked, concerned.

"Umm…yeah," She said, looking confused. "I just thought I saw…..ummm…..never mind." She shook her head and the wariness in her eyes disappeared. She instead, leapt up and grabbed his hand. "Come on, let's dance." With that, she pulled him up out onto the dance floor. A slow song came on, but Hermione still rapped her arms around his neck and smiled.

Draco smiled down at her as well. They didn't say a word. It was that simple.

A few hours later, after much champagne and dancing, Hermione and Draco decided to go. They had danced across the room, talked and laughed. Thankfully, they had never gotten back to the subject of Draco's life. They were just beginning the walk to the door when a voice called them back. Some very colourful swearing exited his mouth.

"Leaving so soon?" asked the bastard ginger, as he sauntered up to them. Draco's eyes narrowed. Only Draco Malfoy sauntered.

The ginger eyed Draco and Hermione. The blonde bimbo from earlier was once more hanging off of his arm, yapping aimlessly. The ginger was obviously tuning her out. He was too busy glaring at the two of them.

Draco smirked. "Nothing to stay for."

The ginger glared at him. "Who are you again?"

Hermione stepped in. "He is a _real_ man," she said, eyeing him seductively.

Draco nearly burst out laughing. There were so many connotations to that phrase. Good for Hermione.

Ginger's face went red. He began stuttering. Hermione smirked once more, and turned on her heel. "Bye Memoria," she called over her shoulder as she led Draco out of the gala.

Once they were safely out of the door, Hermione burst out laughing. Draco joined in. He felt liberated by the petty amusement he felt. Merlin, screwing with the muggle Weasley had been very enjoyable.

"Did you see his face?" Hermione laughed, wiping tears out of her eyes.

Draco chortled, leaning on a nearby pillar. He nodded. "That was glorious!"

Hermione clutched her sides, laughing continuously. "I haven't laughed that hard in a very long time."

"Me neither," he agreed. Calming himself, he caught sight of the limo he had ordered early. He pointed towards it, and Hermione headed over. Draco opened the door, and he and Hermione slipped inside.

They sat in silence for the majority of the trip. Near the end, as they approached Hermione's house, Hermione spoke.

She was staring out of the window, looking thoughtful. She didn't look at him as she began speaking. "What did she look like?"

"Who?" Draco asked slowly. He didn't like where the conversation was going…..

Hermione turned towards him. "Her. What did she look like?"

Draco understood. Her. He looked out of the window, and out into the city of Toronto. He couldn't meet her eyes, but he could answer her question.

"She was a little oddball," he reminisced as he thought of the Hermione from their school years. "Huge hair, giant front teeth, pale and sickly, she was a skinny little thing. Around fourteen though, she had this really weird transformation. Her hair stopped being frizzy, and became more wavy. Her teeth became straight and normal sized. She also became more confident. She was no longer a nervous little girl, but a strong and confident woman. It was strange, but I didn't particularly mind."

Hermione nodded, as if she expected an answer very similar to that. She gave him a sad little smile.

Speaking softly, and avoiding his eyes, she said, "You were in love with her, weren't you?"

Draco's jaw dropped, and he flustered to try and respond to that. It was one thing to say he liked her. Draco had liked many girls throughout his lifetime, but he had never been in love, least of all with Hermione Granger. She would never have even been considered a candidate for his affections.

"I wasn't in love with her," he resisted, desperate to make that clear.

"Sure," she laughed, sending him a wink. She obviously didn't believe him. Damn it, Draco cursed inwardly. Just then, the limo stopped. They had arrived at Hermione's house.

Hermione and he both slide out of the limo. Draco, being the gentleman, led her up to the doorway. Fumbling with her keys, she turned to him, a twinkle in her eyes.

"Thanks for coming Draco," she said, smiling.

"No problem," he replied. "It was really, very enjoyable." She chuckled.

"We should hang out again soon," Draco decided. He didn't know how he decided, but he just knew. He didn't really want to leave Hermione yet.

Hearing his statement, his eyes lit up. She nodded eagerly.

"Tomorrow? Four at the Tim Hortons?"

Draco smiled. "I wouldn't miss it for the world," he said sincerely. He may not be in love with her, but he couldn't deny he was enjoying her company. Hermione smiled. Draco, without really thinking about it, leaned in and kissed softly her on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Hermione," he whispered, before turning and walking back down to the street.

"Oh and Hermione?" he called once more, turning. She looked away from her door, and turned towards him eagerly. "Yes, Draco?"

"You remind me of her," he concluded. With that, Draco turned and slid back into the limo. He didn't look at her face.

**I'm really curious about what my readers like. What is your favourite HP movie or book? Let me know in a review. :) love you guys**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello all! Here's the next chapter! **

**I'd like to say how I hope everyone affected by Hurricane Sandy, or natural disasters in general, is alright. I hope you are all safe and sound!**

**From last time, my favourite Harry Potter book is Half Blood Prince. I love the character developement, especially with Draco. Also, all the puberty angst is hilarious.**

**That's all for my meaningless chatter.**

**Disclaimer: See everydisclaimer on the website. Ever.**

The next day, Draco made sure to wake up before noon. He pulled himself out of bed and forced himself out the door. It had been agony, he didn't want to step back into reality. Last night's non-reality had been so fantastic. Besides the happiness he felt at the gala the night before, Draco also had an excellent night's sleep.

He had three consecutive good nights of sleep now. That was a new record. He slept for hours, enveloped in covers, and dominated by visions of happiness, nothing but good dreams. Last night had been exceptionally great. His dream hadn't had any real form, just shapes and colours, but he had felt safe. Safety was a feeling he valued so much more now than before the war.

Draco left his hotel half-conscious. He may have slept approximately thirty five hours in the last two days, but he was still tired. That's what happened when you were ten years behind on sleep. Before heading down to the office, he quickly grabbed a coffee from the Tim Hortons across the street, along with a donut. They had excellent coffee. The donut was great as well. Munching it down, Draco started the short walk to his office.

Upon arrival, he quickly spotted Katie and Justin. Again, they were both hanging out at Katie's secretary desk. It was like they didn't know about a single other room in the building. Katie was leaning against the desk, chatting to Justin, who was standing in front of her.

"Oi! You two!" he called out, causing Katie to jump up from the desk in surprise. On her landing, she tripped and Justin had to catch her before she fell.

"Welcome back!" Justin huffed as he helped Katie back to her feet, the secretary teetering on her heels. "Where were you yesterday?"

"Slept in," Draco replied, falling into Katie's vacant chair. She raised her eyebrow, as she regained her footing.

"All day?" she asked skeptically.

"I was completely worn out," Draco responded, slumping further down the chair. Katie put her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.

"What's so funny, Katie?" He questioned.

"Well, Mr. Malfoy, what late night activity got you so worn out?" She wagged her eyebrows seductively. Draco shot her a quick look. He laughed anyway.

"Get your head out of the gutter, Katie. I just had some coffee with Hermione. Tim Hortons, have you ever been there?"

Justin eyed him dubiously. "Every Canadian has been in a Tim Hortons."

"Oh," Draco said quickly. He'd thought he had discovered the next big thing. Shame. Continuing with the story, he spoke. "I fell asleep immediately afterwards. Slept through the entire day. "

Katie jumped in the air again, and exclaimed "Hermione! Right! How was that?"

Draco sighed. Katie was acting like a schoolgirl about to hear the newest gossip. She was such a strange person. She was funny, had an exceptionally dirty mind, but freaked out about the littlest things. He felt as though he was looking at an oxymoron whenever he saw her. But, he answered her question none the less.

"Well, she's basically Hermione, just a muggle version. It's quite strange, to be honest. Same character traits, same interests, even some of the same relationships. It's weird though," Draco said, spilling a little more than he should have. "I couldn't really stand her back in the day, but now, I haven't seen her in approximately ten hours, and I already miss her."

"Ten hours?" Katie asked curiously. "Did you meet her last night too?"

"Yep," Draco nodded, as Katie's eyes widened. "She asked me to accompany her to a work gala to piss off her ex-boyfriend." Katie and Justin shot him a look.

"Well, pissing people off, that's your specialty," Justin stated. Katie immediately burst out laughing

Draco shook his head. "What is it with employer-employee relationships these days?" he muttered, thinking back to his owl from Seamus a few days back.

"So how was that?" Justin asked, managing to control his laughter.

Draco pondered on his question for a moment, unsure of the exact wording to use. Eventually, he got it.

"Strange," he said swiftly. Katie raised her eyebrow.

"Well," Draco continued. "We ended up talking about my relationship with Hermione, I mean, magical Hermione. And muggle Hermione, after hearing about my relationship with a little bookworm who punched me in the face, came up with a ridiculous conclusion."

"What?" asked Katie, leaning forward a bit.

What was the harm in telling? "Muggle Hermione thinks I was in love with magical Hermione." Katie and Justin exchanged a quick glance.

"Were you?" Katie asked directly.

Draco stared at her in disbelief. What? He had told them so they all could laugh at the absurdness of the idea, not so they could question his romantic past.

"No! I never was!" he denied. "I couldn't stand her! She hated me as well! We were never even friends, how could I have been in love with her?"

"Then why are you hanging out with her now?" Justin asked. Katie gave him a coy smile.

Draco gaped at them. He couldn't believe this. "I'm going to go get some work done," he said, hurriedly. What was going on? He quickly left for another room. He grabbed a chair, and sat, just staring at the wall, begging his mind to go blank. Of course, even his mind didn't listen to him.

Why did so many people seem think that he was in love with Hermio..._Granger_? When had he ever demonstrated romantic, let alone any kind of feelings towards the girl? He had bullied her mercilessly for years. He had stood by and let her get tortured.

Sure, he respected the girl. But that was now! That was after having years to reflect on the past. But back then, not even close, or at least, he didn't think so. This girl represented everything he used to hate! She was the Gryffindor Princess, he was the Slytherin Prince!

Not to mention they were total opposites! She was kind and loving, he was scheming and devious. She was brave and fearless, and he, well, he had his own problems. How could he ever be in love with her? He personally didn't think himself deserving of loving her. Draco shook his head. What a mess Hermione's reappearance was causing him.

He sighed, and pushed muggle Hermione's ridiculous conclusion to the back of his mind. He had work to do, given he missed the entire day before. Thank merlin to be a good businessman, you had to ignore personal problems. He needed to ignore this. Draco stood up and quickly got to it.

The new office was getting itself set up brilliantly. He spent all day working on the company. That was exhausting in and of itself, but he also had to avoid Katie and Justin, who he knew would bring up Hermione. Whenever he saw them, he quickly ran from the room. They must think he's insane.

The day lugged on for eternity. He couldn't quite keep his mind on work, however hard he tried. Whenever he wasn't one hundred percent concentrated on a certain task, the face of a bushy haired girl would enter into his mind, her eyes twinkling….

What?! Draco's eyes widened. Hermion.._Granger's_ eyes did not twinkle! A better description would be that her eyes shone….

NONONONONO! His head screamed at him, and he slapped himself in the face. It seemed to be the only option at the time. Granger's face disappeared. Thank merlin, he sighed in relief. He heard a laugh behind him.

Katie stood in the doorway. "Are you OK?" Katie asked, laughing. She had just come and peeked into the room he was currently working in.

"What?" Draco asked, disoriented. Katie chuckled.

"You have a bright red handprint on your face now," she giggled, pointing.

"Funny, isn't it?" Draco muttered. He raised his voice. "I got distracted."

"And the only way to focus was to slap yourself?" Katie asked, crossing her arms and leaning on the doorframe.

"Maybe…." Draco murmured, not meeting her eyes. Her smile widened.

"Well, if you're too distracted, why don't you take off?" she asked. "It's almost four, and Justin and I basically got everything under control."

"Four?!" Hermione's face raced back into his mind. "I got to go!"

"Hermione?" Katie asked, smirking.

"Not a word," Draco said sternly. She put on an innocent face.

"Whatever would I say, Draco?" she asked bashfully.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm out." With that, he disapparated. As he left he heard Katie yell out, "Have fun Mr. Malfoy!" Draco sighed. They would never let this go.

Draco apparated into an alleyway a few blocks away from the coffee store. He managed to walk casually into the group of pedestrians on the sidewall, blending in with them perfectly. He arrived at the coffee place with a few minutes to spare. He glanced anxiously up and down the street, anticipating the moment when Hermione would arrive. He shuddered at the thought of Katie hearing what he was thinking. She would never stop. He stared across the street at an office building, his mind wandering once more.

He knew he wasn't in love with Hermione. That was out of the question. However, he definitely felt something for her now, besides raw hate of course. He missed her, even though they had only been apart for a little under a day. This feeling, he definitely didn't recognize it. It was very new. What was it? He mused, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He spun around, meeting the eyes of a pretty brunette.

"Hi Hermione," he smiled, feeling all the tension and stress leave his body, simply by staring at her smile, her lovely smile…NO! What the hell was happening?

"Hey, Draco," Hermione replied, smiling. She pointed to the door. "Shall we?" He nodded, and followed her into the Tim Hortons.

That started their routine.

Every day, after work, Hermione and Draco would meet up at that Tim Hortons on Young, and talk. Just talk. They talked about their lives, their interests, their annoyances and anything else they thought of. They told their stories, Draco's slightly vague of course. They told each other little secrets they hadn't told anyone. They would spend hours together at the Tim Hortons each time they met up. It quickly became the best part of the day. He would spend every moment at work staring at the clock, waiting for it to say four, as Katie and Justin laughed at him in the background. He didn't care though. He wasn't in love with Hermione, he just enjoyed her company, missed her when she wasn't there, and cherished every second they spent together. They could think whatever they wanted. They were just friends. Really good friends. He had noticed that ever since they had started spending time together, his nightmares had completely disappeared. He hadn't had a nightmare in two weeks. It was incredible what this girl was doing to him.

However, in the back of his mind, a little voice was bothering him. The twentieth of October was drawing closer, so close; it was almost upon them. It was the day of Hermione's funeral, an inescapable fact that he would soon have to deal with. He still didn't understand how to bring Hermione back into the wizarding world. The situation was so unclear. Draco knew that she would be terrified the second she learned the truth, her entire world would have been ripped away from her. She didn't deserve that, even though it had already happened to her. Having your world ripped away from you twice, who could recover from that?

That was the reason he was telling Katie and Justin for his not returning Hermione to England. It sounded like a good reason. It was thoughtful, and realistic.

It was also a lie.

Draco didn't care at all if Hermione's life was ripped away from her. It wasn't even her life anyway. She belonged in the magical world, he knew that. With the concept of her not recovering, Draco had no doubt in his mind that Hermione could recover from virtually anything. She was the strongest person he'd ever known. No, Draco didn't actually believe this exceptionally politically correct reason for bringing her back. His real reason, though he wasn't sharing it with anyone, was exceptionally more selfish.

The truth was, he just wasn't ready to give her up. They're friendship was new, but it felt as though they had been friends forever. Draco knew that the second they got her back to the wizarding world, Potter would rip her away from him. Boy wonder would find her memories and she and Draco would go back to being enemies. He wasn't ready for that. Hermione definitely held an important place in his heart, just being with her made him forget about the rest of the world. He'd never truly felt like this before. He didn't know what it was, but it felt like he was on top of the world whenever she smiled at him. He wasn't giving that up just yet.

One day, about two weeks after the gala, Draco's day was going as it usually did. He was working, with one eye on the clock. It was nearly four. He smiled. Time to go.

He walked out of one of the side offices and stuck his head into the main lobby. Katie and Justin were once again hanging out at Katie's desk. The two of them were becoming really good friends; at least it seemed so to Draco.

"Oi!" He shouted. They both turned. "I'm going to head out!" They nodded, not expecting anything else. They both were very used to the Hermione situation by now, and kept their teasing to a minimum.

Draco, before apparating away, heard the door open. However, he was too focused on Hermione to see who it was. Katie and Justin could deal with this person. Draco disapparated.

He arrived in that same alleyway that he had two weeks ago. It was his safe apparition point. He quickly walked over, and began to wait outside the Tim Hortons for Hermione. He was a few minutes early, but he just couldn't wait to see her. He bounced up and down anxiously, when he felt a tap on the shoulder. He smiled, and spun around in excitement.

"Hermion…." He smiled, but he cut off immediately. His voice cut out. He face froze. He went ashen. His blood went cold. He pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. This couldn't be happening.

It wasn't Hermione who had tapped him on the shoulder.

It was Blaise.

Blaise stood before him, smiling like a maniac, dressed in a suit and carrying a briefcase.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," said Blaise, scratching his chin. "Scratch that, you look like a ghost." Blaise said. Said Blaise. Blaise was here. Why was Blaise here? Does not compute, does not compute…

"What are you doing here?" Draco choked out, glancing discreetly at his watch. It read four o'clock. Oh shit. Hermione was going to be here any second, and Blaise was standing right in front of him. Fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

"Thought I'd pay you a visit, and the people at your office said you'd be here," Blaise replied casually, glancing at the Tim Hortons. Draco could've smacked himself. That's who was at the door. Blaise was still talking.

"I've always wanted to visit Canada anyway, seemed like the perfect opportunity." He looked around. "No igloos. Shame."

"Hey Draco!" cried a voice from behind him. A female voice. A female voice he knew very well was attached to a bushy haired know it all with a lovely smile and big brown eyes. If the apocalypse came that minute, Draco probably wouldn't have minded. This could not be happening, this could NOT be happening, he had no idea what to do, what the hell was he going to do…

Blaise looked over his shoulder to see who had cried Draco's name. Draco watched in horror as Blaise's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. Blaise's face went white and he started stammering incoherently. Shit, shit, shit, shit…

"Who's your friend?" Hermione asked curiously, as she took a place next to him, staring, interested, at the disbelieving form of Blaise stuttering before them.

"Ummmmmm," Draco replied, not knowing a single way out of his current predicament. Apocalypse now? Please?

"Interesting," Hermione chuckled. She took a step towards Blaise and reached out her hand. "Hi, I'm Hermione."

Blaise stood shocked, eyeing the hand as if it was about to explode. He was twitching. He was still pale, and stuttering.

Hermione gave Draco a questioning glance. Draco shrugged, trying to go for nonchalant. He could tell how white his face must be. Nonchalant wasn't really an option. He looked forward helplessly, hoping Blaise might disappear on the spot.

Blaise didn't disappear. Instead, he skin flushed, and he stopped stuttering. He regained the ability to speak. He spoke small words, that made Draco want that apocalypse to come as soon as physically possible.

"I know."

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	12. Chapter 12

**Hello dear readers! Normal messages, thanks for all the favourites, follows, and reviews. I'm at 90 reviews now. That's a lot. And it's all thanks to you guys. Love you all! Keep the reviews up, they make my day. Hope you guys like this chapter, the story is really starting to get going now.**

**Disclaimer: I am not Disney. I do not have the capacity to buy the rights to gigantic franchises that were created long ago without my help. *cough, starwars, cough*. In short, I do not own Harry Potter.**

"I know."

Blaise was just staring at Hermione, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. He was ashen. The Slytherin was shivering slightly, and his left eye was twitching. He seemed to have frozen once more. Draco could easily see his veins through his now nearly translucent skin.

Hermione noticed all of this as well. Who wouldn't? Turning to Draco, she questioned it, seemed slightly nervous.

"Ummm, Draco? What's happening?"

What's happening? He thought. What's happening, Hermione, is that the world as you know it is about to be ripped out from beneath your feet. What's happening, Hermione, is you have been discovered after your mysterious disappearance seven years ago by the leader of your search party. What's happening, Hermione, is that the world will soon know you are back from the dead. What's happening, Hermione, is that the secret he'd been trying desperately to keep is out in the open, and the open isn't the best place for that secret to be.

That's what was really happening. That was reality. But reality was a perspective. Hermione's reality was a muggle life, in a muggle world, even though Draco knew that wasn't true. It didn't matter. It felt like reality to her, and reality wasn't something to be tampered with lightly.

That may be reality, but it didn't matter. He couldn't tell her any of that. This situation had to be handled as calmly as humanly possible, to protect all those involved. Come on, Draco, time to think on your feet.

Draco took a deep breath, and tried to explain.

He put on his most winning smile, the one he used to pick up women when he was bored. It was charming, and very endearing. It was trustworthy. It was respectable. It would do the job here.

"Oh, Hermione. Hi! How're you? This is Blaise. He's a friend of mine from England. Sorry about this right now," he finished with a flourish, gesturing at Blaise's pale and frozen form.

Hermione eyed him. "And why is he like this?"

Damn. Damn you charming smile, you failed when you were most needed. "Well, you see, Hermione, umm…. he…ummm…..also knew the other Hermione!" That was the excuse he used when he met her, maybe it would do the trick here. Please, Merlin, let it do the trick here.

Understanding graced her features. Thank you Merlin. "Oh, the one you got me confused me with originally?"

Draco nodded. "Yep, Hermione Granger, that's the one." As these words, Blaise unfroze, and opened his mouth to speak. Not good, not good! Draco couldn't let this happen. He cut Blaise off immediately.

"He knew her as well. He's just getting a little bit confused, just as I did beforehand."

Hermione nodded. She turned to Blaise, smiling reassuringly, as though he was a little child, scared of meeting a new person. She addressed her next words to him. "Sorry about the confusion, sir. I'm Hermione Mason." Blaise gave her a look of complete disbelief. She turned back to Draco awkwardly.

"I must look uncannily like this girl," she mused.

Looking her straight in the eye, Draco spoke softly. "You have no idea."

Truer words had never been spoken.

She averted her eyes, when Draco realized how intensely he'd been looking at her. Blinking several times, he gave Blaise a look that said clearly, don't say anything.

Hermione gave Draco a confused look. He shot another look at Blaise. The auror looked like he was about to explode. Draco sighed. He needed to talk to Blaise, privately. Now.

Draco smiled down at Hermione. He'd never really noticed their height difference before. She really was quite shorter than him. "Hermione, could you grab me a coffee? My friend here and I need to have quick a chat."

Hermione looked a little lost, but shrugged none the less, "Alright." She turned on her heel and headed into the shop, her brown curls bouncing. Thank Merlin she left. Draco was sure Blaise was about to blow his top.

Draco turned to Blaise, backing up a bit, in case he did, in fact, explode. "Mate, let me explain….." he had just started when Blaise cut him off.

"Why the fuck are you meeting Hermione fucking Granger to have a cup of fucking coffee?" he exclaimed, rage evident in his voice. His face was now Weasley red, he was shaking from suppressed anger.

"Impressive level of f-bombs," Draco muttered. He looked Blaise in the eye. Calmly, Draco, proceed calmly. "I ran into her," Draco replied promptly to Blaise, putting his hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels.

"You ran into, you ran into her, perfect, that's amazing," Blaise started muttering and pacing, running his hand through his hair. Draco became immediately more wary. Blaise was showing his warning signs, just like a beginning of a storm. There was no sign of lightning yet, but you could feel it in the air, and you just knew it was coming.

"YOU RAN INTO HERMIONE FUCKING GRANGER!" Blaise exploded, his rage causing several people walking by to jump away in fright, with good reason. The first bolt of lightning was resonating, but Draco knew from experience, the first bolt was never the last.

"Yep," Draco stated simply. He was staying calm rather effectively. Good job Draco. You're maturing as a person.

"Let me rephrase, Malfoy," Blaise started, his rage building once again. Draco quivered. The use of his surname was never a good sign. This storm Blaise was conjuring would probably be stronger than any one of Blaise's rage storms he had ever seen before. "YOU RAN INTO HERMIONE FUCKING GRANGER AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME!"

Draco shrank, cowering under his best friend's rage. "Maybe," he muttered. "But it's not that simple!" Draco exclaimed, regaining some of his strength.

"Then explain it, Draco!" Blaise roared once more. Good Merlin, this man was frightening when he was angry. "You knew I was in charge of her investigation, why couldn't you spare one fucking minute to owl me! Or even, you knew what she means to the wizarding community, to Harry, why couldn't you let anyone fucking know you had found the missing war heroine!"

"OK, Blaise, calm down," Draco said calmly, raising his palms in defense. "This is complicated."

"What is so bloody complicated about it, Draco?" Blaise said angrily, his face still a Weasley shade of red. "You found Hermione Granger, and you've been hiding her. I should punch you right now. Harry would."

"Give me three words to explain Blaise," Draco pleaded. Draco needed a chance to explain this.

Blaise gave him the death glare. Draco felt his heart stop. He'd forgotten how effective one of Blaise's glares could be. There was a reason he was considered such a frightening entity back in their Hogwarts days. "Three words, that's all."

Draco quickly counted in his head. Yep, he could do this. He looked Blaise directly in the eye, even though he was scared out of his bloody pants.

"Her memory's gone," Draco said curtly. Those were the magic words.

Blaise's face immediately went back to its normal colour. His eyes stopped mid-glare, and returned back to normal, from the prior dilation of his pupils. His posture went from a fighting stance to a normal everyday conversation stance.

"What?" Blaise asked, no rage in his voice, only confusion.

"Her memory has been obliviated," Draco responded, relieved that his friend was calming down.

Blaise stared at him. "Explain, now," he demanded. Draco sighed, and started the story.

He quickly told Blaise about running into Hermione, his shock at finding her. He explained how she didn't remember him or anything about the magical world. He told Blaise how she had been in an apparent car crash seven years prior, and now was living a perfectly muggle life, having mugglefied all of her relationships and attributes. Blaise never said a word, just listened intently, the auror side of him dominating the angry rage-filled Slytherin.

"So her entire memory's gone?" Blaise asked, disbelievingly.

"Yep," Draco stated. "Well, once, I thought I saw a flash of recognition in her eyes, but it was gone seconds later. It was probably just a trick of the light."

Blaise nodded, staring off into space. His eyes suddenly regained focus. "We have to get her back to England!" Blaise exclaimed.

"No!" Draco blurt out. Blaise raised his eyebrow. "Ummm, I mean, why don't you join us for coffee first?" Draco asked, slyly avoiding his blatant fear of losing Hermione.

Blaise nodded, though still eyeing him warily, and he followed Draco into the Tim Hortons.

They found Hermione sitting at a table, drinking a coffee, with a second cup waiting for Draco. Thank Merlin. He definitely needed it.

"Thank you, you wonderful, wonderful person," he said, sliding into his seat and taking it. He took a sip. Tim Hortons was a gift from the heavens, he was sure.

"No problem," she said, smiling, though eyeing Blaise warily, as he was her. Blaise took a seat. He and Hermione both took a second to study the other. The tension was slowly building.

"So, Hermione," Draco broke in, clutching his warm coffee cup. "This is Blaise. We went to school together."

"Pleasure," she said, friendly as always. Blaise looked at her, warily. She might've noticed, but her facial expression betrayed nothing.

"So, Blaise," she started. "You completely freaked out when I walked up."

Blaise shuffled uneasily. "You noticed that?"

Hermione laughed. "I probably would've noticed it from an airplane."

Blaise looked even more confused. "What's an airplan…." But Draco cut across him.

"Always the kidder this one," Draco laughed, kicking him in the shin under the table. Draco shot him a look, it would be very unusual if a normal muggle didn't know what an airplane was.

"But to answer your question," Blaise continued, wincing slightly from the kick to his shins. "You look_ a lot_ like a girl Draco and I used to know."

Hermione nodded. "Right, the girl who went missing, also named Hermione. Sorry, Blaise, it isn't me."

Blaise nodded. It was obvious to Draco that Blaise didn't believe her at all. They were in dangerous tides, and Draco had to steer them into safe water. Quickly.

"So, Hermione," he started. "How was your day?"

From there, Draco and Hermione engaged in their normal conversation. Blaise didn't say anything else, and frankly, after his and Hermione's conversation really got going, Draco didn't even notice his best friend's presence. It was as if Hermione and he had submerged into their own little bubble, oblivious to the outside world and all the troubles it contained. He didn't care the secret was out. He didn't care that she'd have to return to the wizarding world sooner or later. As long as, for now, he could stay with her, in this Tim Hortons on Young, he was fine.

They covered all the regular topics: work, silly things they had both said or done, politics, world issues, and how good the coffee was. Today, the dominant topic was work, given that they spent a good half hour on Hermione's work life. Apparently, Ginger kept on coming down to her desk and asking her about Draco, where he was staying, how long he was in town, stuff like that. Hermione was having a lot of fun with this. As far as Ginger was aware, Draco was moving to Canada, and was going to be living with Hermione indefinitely. Draco and Hermione's fake relationship was going to end up giving Ginger an aneurysm, Draco was calling it.

Whilst he was talking to Hermione, he kept on shooting furtive looks at Blaise. The auror was basically gaping at the talking duo. Blaise's eyes were huge, his mouth was hitting the floor, and he seemed slightly pale. Blaise's shock shocked Draco, until he remembered what Blaise was really seeing.

Blaise was seeing Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Prince, ex-death eater, enemy to Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Princess, war heroine, and Harry Potter's best friend exchange friendly conversation. Blaise was having an exceptionally mind-blowing day. Poor Bloke.

For Draco, his and Hermione's relationship no longer felt strange. It was natural, simple, almost like second nature. It was so easy that until Blaise had shown up, Draco had forgotten what his reality was.

Draco's world, for the last few weeks, had been some kind of estranged dream. His and Hermione's relationship was a part of that. It was strange; it was basically unnatural to a person from the wizarding reality. But Draco liked it. He liked it a lot. Draco had been reveling so much in this dream, this Canadian universe he was living in, that he had completely forgotten reality. Reality was the complete opposite of this. Blaise was his reality. It was a shock to be thrust back into that world so suddenly, without any preparation.

After a few hours, Blaise gave a discreet cough, breaking them out of their bubble. They both leaned back. Draco hadn't noticed that they'd been leaning into each other. Hermione seemed flustered, and ran her hand through her hair. Her face was flushed. Draco shot a look at Blaise.

"Well, I should go," Hermione said quickly, standing up.

"Us as well," Draco stated. Hermione smiled at him. Blaise shot a look at Draco that said "I'll wait outside, Draco." He bowed to Hermione, and headed out, eyeing them suspiciously. Draco let his eyes wander back to her face. She was looking at the door.

"Such a strange fellow," she mused, glancing after Blaise.

"You have no idea," Draco shook his head.

"He just kind of looked at me," Hermione mumbled.

Draco nodded, trying not to let any real emotion show on his face. "He's an awkward person. Very socially awkward." Yes, Blaise Zabini, the renowned lady killer, and fiancée to Padma Patil, was socially awkward. That's believable.

Hermione turned back to him, meeting his eyes once more. There was a new emotion in them, which he could barely recognize. Her eyes had grown deeper, if that was even possible. He was drowning in them, so deep, chocolate, and trusting….

"Well, I should be heading out," Hermione said softly, not breaking their eye contact. She took a step towards him.

"Yeah, I should be going to," Draco said, taking a step towards her as well. Her eyes were so entrancing…

"We should be going," Hermione said, her chocolate eyes wider than he'd ever seen them.

"Yep," Draco nodded absentmindedly. He couldn't seem to break their eye contact. He just stood there, staring down into her deep brown eyes. They seemed to reach all the way down to her soul, which shone out like a beacon to him, so pure and light. He was leaning forward, trying to reach the pureness, when she suddenly pulled his lips down onto hers.

Draco was shocked at first. His mind went into overdrive, questioning what was happening. Then his mind shut down, and his body responded. He couldn't understand the feeling that was spreading throughout his body. He had never felt it before, a warm type of yearning. He had kissed countless girls before, but never like this. This was extraordinary, this was new, this was brilliant. This was perfect. He understood that it was Hermione, bookworm, muggle-born, nerd extraordinaire, and by all accounts he should've been running away in terror. But he couldn't. He had never felt so right in his entire life, then now, as he kissed the Gryffindor Princess. He never wanted it to end.

But, alas, like all things in life, it did. Hermione pulled back first. Draco probably never would've. She looked at him, and smirked at his confused expression. He was so flustered.

"See you tomorrow, Draco," she whispered softly. He stood there, dumbfounded, as Hermione left the coffee shop. She didn't look back at him.

Draco's eyes fluttered and he regained movement that he had temporarily lost. He headed outside the shop, where Blaise was standing there, eyes wide and jaw dropped.

"Did you just…..Hermione….kiss…" Blaise stuttered, amazed and flabbergasted.

Draco nodded, still confused himself. He could still feel his lips tingling.

Blaise shook his head in disbelief. He looked at Draco. "Are you sure that's Hermione Granger?"

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	13. Chapter 13

**Hello lovelies! How's it going? Sorry this is late, I was very very busy. Thanks to all you beautiful readers, reviewers, followers and favouriters. You rock. Thanks to my lovely and fantastic beta. Just amazing.**

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**Anyway enough rambling. To the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own HP. Tear.**

"Are you sure that's Hermione Granger?"

"Yeah, Blaise, I'm sure," Draco said, not really paying attention. His lips were still tingling. Hermione had tasted like strawberries.

Blaise looked at him incredulously. He began stuttering. "But, but, but why would Hermione Granger kiss you? You guys hate each other."

"Well," Draco replied shrugging. "She can't remember that now."

"But how are you sure that this isn't an imposter?"

Draco sighed. Of course Blaise couldn't simply take his word for it. "It can't be polyjuice potion because I've spent hours with her without drinking or eating."

"Don't you guys get coffee every day?" Blaise asked. "That constitutes eating and drinking."

"Yes, but some days she doesn't get anything, big lunch or whatever," Draco concluded. He knew it wasn't polyjuice. It couldn't be. His gut told him that much. But his gut feeling obviously wasn't enough for Blaise. He sighed once more.

"I'm sure that it's Hermione, because of one small detail."

"Which is?" Blaise asked incredulously.

"There's a small scar on her neck," Draco stated confidently. Blaise looked confused. Draco sighed a third time. Silly Blaise, not knowing all the details of the girl he'd just spent many years trying to find.

"That is the scar Bellatrix left when the trio got captured and taken to Malfoy Manor, when psycho bitch had Hermione at knife point. The only people who know about that scar are either her best friends, me, dead or in Azkaban. Anyone else wouldn't have known to add that detail. It's her Blaise. I swear."

Blaise closed his eyes. Draco knew this tactic well. The auror was taking several calming breaths before proceeding. Otherwise, Draco knew from experience, Blaise would explode once more.

The Slytherin opened his eyes again, and seemed to have gained knowledge.

"We have to get back to your hotel, as soon as humanly and magically possible. We need a plan."

Blaise took initiative and lunged forward. Before Draco had time to react, Blaise had him by the arm, and the two were apparating away

They landed in Draco's hotel room. Blaise landed with the grace he'd always possessed. Draco, however, landed rather clumsily, and tripped over a box. Blaise chortled.

"While, that's what happens when you side-apparated me without warning," Draco huffed as he got back to his feet. Bloody wanker.

"Anyway," Blaise said, as he let out a final chuckle. "We have a more important manner to discuss than simply your clumsiness. Draco, I need to ask, do you know the date today?"

Draco scratched his head. Mid to late October, but he couldn't put a number to it. "Roughly, but not quite exactly."

"It's the nineteenth."

Draco's jaw dropped, no, it couldn't be. He counted in his head several times, and came to the same conclusion. Damn it, Draco! He swore. How could he have more stupid?

He thought he had more time. He thought he had endless days to figure out how to handle the Hermione situation, how to get her back, how to find her memories, and all that jazz. Time was the one luxury he was so used to he'd forgotten what it was like to be begging for more. The only other time in the past he'd been out of time, had been in sixth year, as he tried to murder the headmaster. He'd been terrified then, and now, he felt that familiar anxiety creep up his neck.

The hourglass was almost out of sand. Hermione's funeral was tomorrow. No matter how much he wished, he couldn't turn back the hands of time. All the time-turners had been destroyed nine years ago, and the ministry had outlawed them since. No time travel for him. Draco now had to face the inevitable truth, no matter what he wanted to ignore it. He needed to get his little bookworm back to London.

He couldn't hide her from their world. Draco knew that there were other people who needed her, far more than he ever would. Faces flashed through his mind, one after another, disappearing as quickly as they came. He saw Weaslette, Potter, and finally, with a flash of anger, the Weasel. They needed her. She belonged with them, in a way she would never belong with him. He sighed, giving in. This was for the best, he thought weakly, not truly believing, but accepting none the less.

"Then I guess we have to get her back," Draco said softly, ignoring the effect those words had on his heart.

Blaise looked him over curiously. Draco closed of his face, along with his emotions, immediately, but it was too late. Blaise simply could read him too well.

"What has really been going on with you and Hermione?" the Slytherin demanded.

Draco avoided his best friend's eyes. "Well, we've been hanging out every day for the last few weeks," He said. "We've become pretty good friends."

"But she kissed you," Blaise interrupted, stating the obvious

"I wasn't expecting that," Draco said, avoiding Blaise's eyes like the plague.

Blaise gave him a look, but let the subject drop. Thank wizard god on high. Draco didn't want to talk about his relationship with Hermione. He barely understood it himself. "Anyway," Blaise continued, "we have to get her back to England by tomorrow."

Draco sighed. It was the inevitable. He knew that, but he was nowhere near ready for it. The friendship he had formed with Hermione over the past few weeks was the strongest relationship he had ever had, including Blaise, and his mother. He had never really had a friend like Hermione. She didn't judge him, she didn't mock him. She cared how he felt. Hermione gave him all the things he had wanted but had to ashamed to ask for. She was the friend he had always wanted but was terrified to make. Now, if they got her memories back, she would most likely go back to hating his furry ferret face. Was he ready for that?

He thought back to one day during his Hogwarts years. He had seen the Weasel, Hermione, and Potter all sitting together, laughing and smiling. Her face had been alit with happiness. Draco sighed. Hermione deserved those friends, and that life. He couldn't hold onto her, while in the process, tearing her away from her real life. He had to be selfless. He had to be strong. He had to be like Hermione.

He turned to Blaise. "How?"

Blaise nodded; apparently satisfied that Draco wasn't making a fuss. Blaise quickly laid out the plan, but Draco was only half listening. His mind had started to linger on the kiss he had shared with the Gryffindor Princess. The kiss, it felt strange to just think about it. It was wrong, he and Hermione weren't supposed to kiss; it was against everything he had ever learned and experienced. Then why had it felt so right? It felt natural, like he was born to be with Hermione. He could still see her bright shining eyes, her lovely luscious lips….

"Draco!" Blaise exclaimed.

"Sorry, what?" Draco asked, his eyes flickering as he began to pay attention again.

"You understand the plan?" Blaise asked.

Draco thought back. He had been paying attention, sort of. He went over what he remembered, and understood what he needed to do.

"Yep," Draco nodded.

"Alright," Blaise nodded. "Remember, you've got to do it tomorrow morning, time change and all."

Draco nodded, knowing what he would have to do. His heart felt like it was being iced over. He took a seat and put his face in his hands.

Blaise looked at him, sympathy evident on his face. He patted Draco on the shoulder and said "I know you two are friends now, but she belongs back in England, with her real friends. And who knows, maybe you guys will be friends again…"

"Thanks Blaise," Draco interrupted, standing up. "I'll do it. See you tomorrow."

Blaise looked at him, somewhat pitifully, and nodded. "Bye Drake," he muttered before apparating away.

Draco put his mind on freeze and quickly did the things he had to for the plan. Once he was done that task, he quickly packed his suitcase. He looked around at the hotel room that had become his home over the past few weeks. He wouldn't be returning to this place after tomorrow. His heart felt heavy. He'd miss this place. He'd miss this place a lot.

He needed to be strong. The next part of the plan needed to be completed. Draco sighed, dread spreading from his heart through his veins to every part of his body. He needed to do this.

He pulled out Katie's phone, and punched in the numbers. He had memorized them. 456-8384. Hermione picked up after only one ring. And so it begins, he thought, his heart breaking.

"Hello," she chirped through the phone. She was so sweet, so innocent, so happy. Not for very long.

"Hey, Hermione!" he responded, his heart melting. He wanted to hang up, stop talking to her. He was begging to avoid what he knew he had to do next. He couldn't return her to the magical world. He wanted to stay here with her, in the muggle world, just to keep her friendship. He wanted to keep their friendship with every bone in his body.

But he couldn't. He had to be selfless.

"Hey Draco, what's up?" she asked, her voice joyful.

"Bad news, Hermione," he started, but trailed off. Man up, his brain screamed at him. He took a deep breath and continued. "I got called back to London."

He heard silence at the other end of the phone. "What?!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Yeah, that's why Blaise was here," he continued with the lie.

"Well, when are you leaving?" panic was obvious in her voice.

"Tomorrow," he said.

"Tomorrow?" she squeaked.

"Yes," Draco responded, trying to keep his voice friendly and jovial.

"No! You can't!" Hermione screeched. Draco's heart skipped a few beats.

"I have to, Hermione," Draco responded, trying to stay cool and collected. "But I don't want to go without saying goodbye, so do you want to meet me for breakfast tomorrow?" Hermione didn't say anything for a moment.

"Alright," she sighed sadly. "Eight at our Tim Hortons?"

"Perfect," Draco responded. He liked the way she said _their_ Tim Hortons. "Bye, Hermione."

"Bye, Draco," she said quietly. He heard the tone, meaning she had hung up. He brought the phone down from his ear. He closed his eye, and took a deep breath, clenching his fists. He was exhaling when he heard a snap. He opened his palm. Fuck.

He had managed to break Katie's phone. Shit, he thought. He looked down at his clock. Katie and Justin probably weren't at the office, but he might as well check. He should give her phone back, or the pieces of it.

Also, he wanted to say goodbye.

He quickly apparated to the office, where he found Katie and Justin. It was strange how late they were there. They were not working however. They were laughing at something on Katie's desk. Justin was leaning over Katie's desk chair, looking over her shoulder. Katie was laughing her head off, looking back at Justin every few seconds. The two of them looked very cozy.

Draco felt uncomfortable. He felt as though he was intruding on something. He couldn't place what it was, but it felt like something he shouldn't be looking upon. It felt personal. What could it be? He looked away. Oh well. He'd dwell on it later.

He walked towards them. They looked up as he approached the desk

"Hey Draco," Katie waved cheerily, if not a little confused.

"Hey guys." Draco himself could even tell he sounded down.

"What's up?" Katie asked, sounding concerned. "And why are you here so late? It's like, nine."

"I could ask the same to you," he gestured at the two of them. Katie blushed faintly. Odd. She shrugged it off.

Who really cared? Draco was just beating around the bush. He needed to tell them the truth. "I'm heading back to London." Justin and Katie's eyebrows' shot up.

"Why?" Justin asked.

"One of my auror friends found out about Hermione, and I've got to bring her back."

Katie nodded, understanding, though she looked upset. "Well, yeah, you should. Isn't tomorrow her funeral?"

"Which is why I need to leave tomorrow," Draco concluded. "Oh yeah, Katie!"

"What?" she asked.

"Ummm…..I may have broken your phone…" he said, handing her the broken pieces. Katie raised her eyebrows, and chuckled.

"You need to learn how to control your emotions, my friend," she chortled.

"Maybe a bit…." Draco muttered. "So anyway guys, I won't see you tomorrow, so bye. And thanks for everything."

Katie gave him a look, and proceeded to laugh. "You aren't getting away from us that easily. Come here." She stood up and walked around the desk, approaching him. She pulled him into a hug, which he reciprocated easily. When she pulled back, she placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Now, you don't go forgetting about us now. Or this great country for that matter. Promise to visit."

Draco chuckled. "Forget you guys? How is that even possible?"

Katie nodded approvingly. "Good answer."

"As for Canada," Draco continued. "No way am I forgetting this country. I, for one, will be saying eh, and sorry, way more than should be allowed. I will keep up with the Toronto Maple Leafs hockey team. I will laugh at those who find the weather cold. And I will be on Tim Hortons withdrawal the second I step foot in London. There is no doubt these last few weeks have definitely made a Canuck out of me."

Katie gave a watery chuckle. She was crying a bit.

"I'll miss you Draco. And, thank you."

She looked him in the eye as she thanked him. Draco didn't know what she was thanking him for, but it seemed like a big deal to her.

Turning to Justin, he held out his hand. Justin wasn't having it, and instead, pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

"I'll miss you, mate," the Canadian said. Draco smiled. He'd miss these two as well. Draco pulled away and walked to the door. Turning back, he caught one last look at Malfoy Industries Canada.

The walls were painted, the desks were ready, the fridge was working and the carpets were cleaned. The business cards were made, the ink bottles capped, and the quills straight. The office was perfect and ready for business. Draco looked beyond the office area. The blinds were opened, which gave him a final view of the lake. The lights of Toronto were reflected on it, glittering in the moonlight. He smiled sadly. He would definitely miss this place.

He looked back at Justin and Katie. Katie was now in Justin's arms, her head resting on his chest. She was smiling, even though a few tears were still in her eyes. Justin was smiling as well, holding her close. Draco smiled. He understood now, and knew it was time to leave. This place would get on without him.

"Goodbye," he whispered, with an air of finality. Katie caught his eye, and sent a wink his way. Draco chuckled.

"Bloody Canadians," he muttered, and disaparated away.

He landed in his hotel room, and fell quickly onto his bed. He didn't fall asleep for a long time though. He stared up at the ceiling, thinking.

He had realized something, as he saw Justin holding Katie in his arms. He realized something as he saw how happy they were together. Draco realized that he wasn't really needed. He wasn't really needed anywhere, or by anyone, not in the way that Potter needed Granger, or the way Katie now needed Justin. Not in the way he had come to need Hermione. No one needed him like that. Canada would get by without him, and he was sure that England hadn't missed him much.

He felt an overbearing sadness as the full weight of that realization hit him. It was depressing, knowing no one needed you. If he were to disappear, some people would mourn him, Blaise and his mother namely, but they'd move on. They'd live. They would forget. When Hermione disappeared, there had been no possibility of forget, not for anyone. Potter hadn't forgotten a day since, that much was clear. Potter hadn't been able to live a day without her either. Draco had seen him pretty often over the last seven years. He looked happy, but behind the eyes, there was a crushing sadness, so crushing Draco could barely look the boy who lived in the eye for more than ten seconds.

Draco rolled over and sighed. He needed to forget about this realization. He had things to do. He closed his eyes, and breathed. He was dreading the morning, when the comfortable life he had set up here drastically changed. He wasn't ready for that. He wasn't prepared.

But the truth was, sometimes, life didn't care.

**Review please...**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello all! I hit an awesome milestone last chapter, 100 reviews! That's amazing! It's all thanks to you guys. So, to celebrate, I'm finally sending out some shoutouts.**

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**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter.**

The next day, early in the morning, Draco stood in front of the Tim Hortons. His heart was hammering, and a cold sweat had erupted on his palms. Draco couldn't deny it; he was dreading the moment Hermione would arrive. Everything was about to change.

Draco shivered. He was teetering on the edge. He yawned. His record of good night's sleep had been broken the night before. There was too much on his mind to allow him a peaceful sleep. Heaven forbid the night before Draco's life changed drastically, he got a decent night's sleep.

The nightmare he had endured had been blurry, dark, and chilling. Screams of the tortured and the dying continued through the entire evening. Flashes of green light had blinded him. When he had regained vision, he was staring at a strange collage of the crying faces of the people he had hurt. The collage had merged into the top of the astronomy tower, and Dumbledore telling him he had choices. As Snape cast the final curse, he had awoken in a cold sweat, a final, drawn out scream shattering him into consciousness.

Draco shuddered. It seemed as though his memories of the war would never cease to haunt him. The screams…he trembled. The guilt of knowing he had caused those screams had weighed down on his heart for years now. It wasn't my fault! His mind grasped at straws, trying to dissipate the guilt. He hadn't always had a choice.

Choices. Dumbledore, the night he died, had spoken to him of choices. He remembered the pitiful look the old headmaster had given him. The wise old man had said you always had a choice. But life wasn't that simple, Draco thought. Life was sometimes there to just screw you over, regardless of the good or bad choices you had made. Fate played with your world, deciding how it would go, how it would begin, and how it would end. Fate controlled everything, as you fell sadly under the assumption you could do a damn thing to help or hinder. It didn't matter. Not in the end

Like now, Draco thought. He didn't want to bring Hermione back. But fate screwed him over, sending Blaise to him. What were the chances the auror would go across the Atlantic and find him just as the bubbly brunette bounced up? Now, Draco had no choice but to let go of his only source of real comfort. Thanks fate. You really know how to help a brother out. Draco looked out into the crowded streets of Toronto. He couldn't do this.

"Hey, Mr. British," said, a voice from behind him. Draco was jolted from his thoughts. He would recognize that voice anywhere. Plastering a smile to his face, he turned. This is it, you can do this. Draco turned slowly, trying to remember all the reasons this was the right choice. The second he laid eyes on her, all those valid reasons vanished from his mind in a puff of smoke.

She was just standing there, looking at him. She was just being Hermione. It made his heart cry for what he was about to do. One last look, he thought, and let his eyes wander over her, slower than usual, determined to get in every detail.

Her long brown was hair curled around her shoulders. It was amazing how that hornet nest of hair had turned into these beautiful caramel curls. Draco lowered his eyes. She was wearing simple jeans and a white blouse that clung to her form splendidly. Draco stopped and stared. He felt like a teenage boy again, like it was his first time noticing women. He stared at her chest for moment, fantasies forming in his head. He jerked his eyes upwards, trying to ignore her exceptionally curvaceous form. His eyes reached her face, taking in every inch. All thoughts of fantasies disappeared in a puff of smoke, and his heart began to cry once more.

Her eyes were wide, as they normally were, but there was no sparkle in them anymore. They were struggling to keep a mask up, thinly veiling pain. Her skin seemed paler than the normal glow that usually surrounded her. Her mouth was pulled into a smile, which simply distorted her face because of the strain it seemed to be causing her.

She was exceptionally unhappy.

"Hi Hermione," Draco said softly, his eyes not leaving hers. She gestured her head towards the door.

"Shall we?" her voice was dead and emotionless.

Draco nodded and followed her through the door. Hermione choose a table while Draco bought them both a pastry and some coffee. He sat down, placing everything on the table. Hermione chose the coffee closest to her, while Draco sighed in relief. This wouldn't have worked otherwise. They spent a moment avoiding each other's eyes, her on the ground, and Draco's on the coffee cup she took a sip from.

"So, why the urgent return?" Hermione asked softly, eyes still on the ground.

"I've been called back," Draco muttered, not elaborating. Hermione nodded, the strained smile still on her face. Her eyes flickered up to his.

"I'm going to miss you, Draco," Hermione said, sincerely, some of the pain manifesting on her face for the first time. Her walls were slipping.

"Why?" Draco let the word slip out. He had been wondering this since their conversation the night before. Why would she care so much if he was leaving? He cared very much, but that had to be one sided. They were friends, so she probably cared a little, but shouldn't to the extent that was demonstrated on her face. It seemed to be ripping her apart from the inside.

Hermione took a moment to respond. "I don't know," she said uncertainly. "I just feel…..something with you."

Draco raised his eyebrow, and she elaborated.

"It's like a connection, as if we were soul mates in another life." Definitely not soul mates. "It's strong, and it feels permanent. From the second I saw you, drunk and confused, I just felt as if you were a part of me. I had never felt this way before, and a total stranger was doing this to me. When you told me you were leaving, I felt a sudden pain in my chest, as if I had been run through with a knife. As if I had just lost my best friend, but I barely know you. I didn't understand it. I still don't."

Draco stared at her, fighting to keep the shock off his face. He couldn't believe Hermione had just said all of that to him. He couldn't believe she felt that way. What had she said? A connection…that's right. There was a connection between the two of them. He knew it was the magical world connection, but it felt deeper than that. He had hated Hermione almost his entire life, now after a two week friendship, he felt a connection with her down to his soul. She had summed up perfectly his feelings towards her, and now he had no idea how to respond.

"Sorry for laying the heavy emotions on you," Hermione rushed out, concerned that she had upset him.

"No, no," Draco said quickly. "You just summed up my feelings towards you as well."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Really?" she asked, in a hushed whisper, leaning over the table towards him.

Draco nodded, smiling at her. He felt perfect right now, at this little table in Canada, sitting with Hermione. But a little voice at the back of his head was reminding him of his duty to Blaise, Potter, and the wizarding world. He had to do it.

"Why don't you finish that coffee, and we go for a walk?" he said stiffly, pointing at the coffee, dreading the inevitable. She nodded, smiled, and gulped down the coffee. She threw the cup into the trash and started for the door, Draco trailing quickly behind her.

Here goes nothing.

They had just gotten out of the door when Hermione's eyelids drooped shut and she passed out, Draco catching her before she hit the concrete. Thank Snape for teaching him how to make such a good knockout potion. He picked her up, bridal style, shot a quick look around, making sure no one noticed, and apparated back to the hotel.

He landed in his apartment, quite clumsily, given the fact that Hermione was unconscious in his arms. He laid her delicately on the bed. She breathed in and curled up in the blanket. Draco stopped for a second just to look at her. Her face seemed so serene and peaceful. She could be asleep, not knocked out. Draco smiled at her. This would be the last time her life was peaceful in a long time. He checked his watch. It was 8:15, 1:15 London time. He still had fifteen minutes until he promised to meet Blaise. He sat down in a chair across from his bed.

He had fifteen minutes left with his Hermione, and she wasn't even awake. His eyes drifted to Hermione's dreaming face, unconscious on his bed, and his imagination went into overdrive.

He wondered what her life would be like now if she hadn't had her memory taken. He bet she'd have a top job at the ministry, if anyone deserved that type of position Granger did. She'd be doing speeches about the war, the same way Potter sometimes did. She'd probably have married the Weasel. He knew they had finally gotten together during the battle of Hogwarts. There was some story to do with Weasel caring about house elves. They probably would have popped out a couple kids too. She would have been happily in love. Draco's heart clenched at the thought.

He wondered what would happen when they got her memory back. Would she go right back to the stupid Weasel? Draco felt lightheaded. She couldn't go back to him. She couldn't. No.

Why do you care, asked a little voice at the back of his head. I don't, he responded defiantly, but he knew he was lying.

The kiss flashed through his mind again. What was going on? Was it possible that he was in love with the bookworm? No way, there was no way, he told himself firmly, trying to brush off the feeling of uneasiness he received with that denial. The kiss was a one-time thing, just Hermione doing something spontaneous. He laughed, imagining Hermione doing something like that back in the wizarding world. Spontaneous Hermione was not what the wizarding world would expect.

He checked his watch once more. His heart skipped a beat. It was time to go.

He glanced at Hermione. Her face was now smiling. Apparently sleeping potions came with good dreams. Draco's face lit up at her smile, even though she was unconscious. He looked down at her face, dimples showing. He chuckled, as he took a curl of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. His fingers froze as his mind realized what he was doing. Shake it off, he muttered, pulling his hand away. He leaned over the sleeping beauty, picking her up.

"Sorry if this is uncomfortable," he whispered in her ear. He turned on the spot and apparated off.

Finally, they both were going home.

Draco landed in Blaise's office at the ministry, knocking into a table. He nearly lost his grip on Hermione, but regained it before she fell. Blaise rushed around his desk, and assisted Draco in lying Hermione across the table, her face serene. Blaise and Draco backed up and spent a moment just staring at her.

"Today's the day," Blaise sighed, leaning against his desk and crossing his arms.

"Yep," Draco sighed, upset at the thought. Blaise shot him a look.

"Hey, Drake," Blaise said, walking over at slapping a hand on his shoulder. "Who knows, maybe you guys will still be friends here."

Draco shook Blaise's hand off, and walked to the other side of Hermione.

"So, what now?" He asked, ignoring Blaise's comment and avoiding his eyes.

Blaise checked his watch. "Well, the funeral starts soon, so I think you should head over…."

"Wait, wait, wait," Draco interrupted. He couldn't be hearing this right. "Me?" he asked disbelievingly.

Blaise nodded, as if stating the most obvious thing in the world. "You found her Draco, you should be the one to tell everyone."

This had to be the worst idea ever. He opened his mouth to resist, but Blaise cute him off.

"I'll stay and look over Hermione," Blaise stated. "Don't worry, just explain to everyone."

"What the hell do I say?" Draco asked, floundering. Again, he was lost in the ridiculousness of his situation. This was happening way too often. Someone should write a book, how to proceed in exceptionally unlikely and unnatural situations.

He'd buy seven copies.

Blaise was answering his question. "The truth," Blaise replied simply. "Everyone values it so much more than before the war."

Draco sighed. Blaise was not letting him out of this. Damn auror.

"Where's the funeral?" he huffed, giving in.

Blaise smirked slightly, satisfied he wasn't putting up a fight. "In the forest of Dean. According to Harry, it has something to do with her family. You should go now, the funeral should be starting any moment," he finished nervously, glancing at the clock.

Draco nodded. He started to apparate away, but something stopped him. He turned and cast one last look at Hermione.

He took in every detail, from her curly hair, to her smile, to her freckles, sprinkled across her nose. He looked at the lids covering the big brown eyes so deep he felt as though he could drown in them. This was the last time he would look at Hermione Granger, his friend. Soon, she would go back to being his enemy, the bookworm and best friend of the boy who lived. He sighed, treasuring the moment while it lasted. He closed his eyes and turned. It was impossible, their friendship now. He had to let it go, and forget. He sighed, blinked back a tear, shunned himself for over emoting, and apparated to the forest of Dean.

He arrived in the middle of a deeply forested wood. He looked around, for a sign of people. In the distance between two oaks, was a small light. Draco walked over and checked it out. A little ways away, he could see a large gathering of people. This was it. He took a deep breath and headed in that direction.

It took him approximately five minutes to reach the funeral site. It was in a large clearing, with light shining down through the trees. The clearing opened up onto a lake, blue and sparkling in the midday sun. It was a beautiful place, Draco thought. It was rather mystical. He could feel the magic in the air. Hermione would like it.

A large tent filled the clearing. Inside, he could see hundreds of people milling around. He took a second to devise a plan. Alright, he thought. First thing to do, find Potter. Draco nodded. This was a good first step. He stepped out of the shadow of the oak he was in and headed into the tent.

Walking in, he took notice of his surroundings. He could tell there were different rooms, a large gathering room, and near the front, a smaller room off to one side. Draco looked around for a sign of the raven-haired man he sought to speak with. He couldn't spot the boy who fought endlessly, but he recognized quite a few familiar faces.

Professor Mcgonagall was there, as well as Slughorn, Sprout, Flitwick, and basically every other Hogwarts professor. They were all wearing dress robes of the finest fabrics. Hagrid was standing off to one side of the tent, crying into a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth. Merlin that man was huge. Draco had forgotten.

In the middle of the tent, there seemed to be a group of old Hogwarts students gathering. Draco glanced over their faces.

Neville Longbottom was standing there, a distraught Hannah Abbott clutching his arm. Longbottom's face was very red, as if he was on the verge of crying but was desperately trying to keep it together.

Luna Lovegood was standing next to him, in robes of flowing yellow. She stood out in the crowd of black. Then again, Draco chuckled dryly, when had she not?

Seamus was there, engaged in conversation with Dean Thomas, Padma Patil, and Parvati Patil. Cho Chang stood a little off to the side, along with others Draco knew by sight but who's names escaped him. They were huddled together and muttering. Draco looked around some more.

Almost everyone Hermione had ever met seemed to be here. He saw Madam Rosmerta talking to the owner of the Hog's Head near the back. He could see that Victor Krum was talking to Fleur Delacour at one side of a podium near the front. There were several house elves scurrying around as well. Draco laughed at that. SPEW was still going strong then, even after Hermione was considered gone.

Draco turned, and was suddenly blinded by red. He had obviously found the Weasleys. It was such a big family, Draco hadn't really realized. Weaslette was there at the front of the back. She was crying into the shoulder of the Mother Hen. He couldn't spot Weasel though. He must be with Potter, Draco deduced.

Draco turned to the person next to him, to ask if they'd seen the chosen one. Draco froze when he got a glance of the old man.

It was Ollivander, the wand maker. Ollivander's eyes met his, and widened. It didn't surprise Draco, the last time he had seen the wandmaker, it had been it the Manor's dungeon, seven years prior.

"Hello Ollivander," he said softly, as to not scare the old man. "Have you seen Harry Potter?"

Ollivander shuddered, and stared for a moment. He managed to answer after a few seconds. He pointed to the room at the front of the tent. "All the speakers are there."

"Thank you," Draco mummered and headed in that direction, but was halted by Ollivander's arm.

"Mr. Malfoy," he said, his grey eyes boring into Draco's. "Do not make this service harder for Miss Granger's loved ones than it already is."

Draco stared. "Wouldn't dream of it, sir," he responded curtly, pulled his arm from the old geezer's grasp and hurried towards the room.

Draco could hear voices inside. They didn't sound happy. They were arguing, but Draco couldn't make out any words. Draco shrugged. His news was much more important than any argument. He walked in.

He found himself in a small room, with hardly any people in it. Luckily for Draco, the people who were present were the ones he was looking for. They didn't seem very happy with each other though.

"Admit it, Potter!"

"I can't believe you're bringing this up, today of all days!"

"I need to know!"

"Sorry to interrupt, boys" Draco stated, strolling forward with his usual swagger.

Potter and Weasel turned away from each other, to look at him. Draco guessed they must be the two speakers. Weasel's face seemed to be red already, but it darkened several shades when the Gryffindor caught sight of the Slytherin. Potter just stared.

"Malfoy, why are you here?" Potter asked curtly.

"I need to talk to you," Draco replied simply.

"Fuck off, Malfoy," Weasel spat venomously.

"No, seriously," Draco responded.

"Piss off, ferret," Weasel spat once more, his face now looking exactly like a tomato. The Weasel took in a deep breath, and started his rampage. "You have no right to be here. You were no friend to Hermione. In fact, you made her life hell for years. You stood by and watched her being tortured without lifting a finger. You hated her. That much was obvious. Lucky for you, the feeling was mutual. This service is for the people Hermione cared about, so get the hell out."

The Weasel's volume had been steadily increasing, until the point where he was nearly screaming. Draco barely blinked an eye. Weasel could say whatever he wanted. Draco was here for a reason.

"Just, listen Golden Duo," Draco continued, acting as if the Weasel hadn't exploded. This was way more important than Weasel's anger.

Potter looked as if he was about to respond, but he faltered. The tent had gone silent outside the room. The service must be starting, Draco thought nervously. Not good, not good, not good…

Suddenly, he saw a hand reach through the flap and grab him. The short man who pulled him back into the main tent muttered "speaker time." Before Draco truly understood what was happening, he found himself being pushed to the podium at the front of the tent, as Potter and Weasel protested vigorously. Hundreds of eyes were now staring at him, expecting him to speak. Fuck.

Draco froze. He had no idea what to do. This wasn't why he was here, and the majority of these people hated him. He looked around, trying to find a way out, when he caught Loony Lovegood's eye. The blonde Ravenclaw mouthed one word at him. SPEAK. Loony gave him a reassuring smile, and Draco felt strength rush through him. He knew what to do.

"Hello, all," he started, looking out across the crowd. Many wide eyes stared at him. He couldn't blame them. Who would've ever thought he'd speak at Hermione Granger's funeral (sort of)? Even five minutes ago, the concept was ridiculous. But here he was. Fate obviously needed an eventful day. This is for you fate, he thought, and he continued on.

"I knew Hermione Granger for seven years before she disappeared. Seven years I knew this woman, and never once did we have a conversation that didn't involve screaming and insults. Hermione knew some really good ones." A confused chuckle rang through the crowd. Draco felt more confident. He could get through this very strange situation. He could. Probably.

"To state it simply, Granger and I didn't get along," Draco continued, the speech getting easier with each word muttered. "Anyone who went to Hogwarts knew that. We weren't very secretive about our mutual dislike. It started when we were young, from the first moment we saw each other. When I was little, I used to say I didn't like Hermione Granger because she was a muggle-born Gryffindor, and I was a pureblooded Slytherin." He felt several glares burn through him. Blood purity was a sensitive subject since Voldemort's defeat. Screw it. He was making a decently good speech, and was planning on continuing it. He didn't know where all this was coming from, but it just felt natural to say.

"But, now that I'm older and wiser, though not much," another chuckle rang through the crowd. "I can understand fully why I didn't like Hermione Granger. I simply admired her too much." Every single person in the tent stared at him in blank confusion. Draco didn't care though. These were truths he had so long ignored that he had forgotten they were truths. It felt great to get them off his chest

"I didn't like her because she was such a better person than me. I have never respected anyone more. She was kind, and intelligent. She was compassionate. She was a strong person, who would never take shit from anyone. The broken nose she gave me once can testify to that. And she was beautiful." At this, Draco stared off into the lake. He finally was saying it, his true thoughts of Hermione. Not of his friend Hermione, but of the real girl he had bullied for years on end. He had hidden it for so long, in fear. He would never even admit it to himself, in nervousness that someone would realize his true opinion of this amazing woman. He hid it with blind hated. Now, given the ridiculous circumstances, he felt obligated to say the truth.

"Hermione was beautiful," Draco smiled sadly, still looking across the lake. "Inside and out. She was one of the most amazing people I've ever met. Funny, intelligent, witty, kind, and caring. I just wish I had told her this back when she could hear it." Draco's heart slammed in his chest. He needed to say this.

"One day, back during the war, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter were captured and taken to Malfoy Manor, where I was staying. Hermione, because of her blood status, was tortured for information on the drawing room floor. I watched, helpless, as she withered and twitched, screaming as my crazy aunt crucio-ed her. But Hermione never broke. She never gave up. She fought. She was the strongest person I've ever met."

Draco stopped speaking and looked slowly over the audience. Some of them were looking at him in amazement, others in total shock. Seamus looked dumbfounded, and Mcgonagall was crying silently. As he watched the tear trickle down Mcgonagall's cheek, Draco finally understood something.

That day, a month ago, when Potter had run up to Blaise, asking him to look into another lead, Draco had thought something. He had wondered why Potter still had hope. This was why. These people were why.

Potter always had hope in Hermione because of this, because of all these people sitting here. He never gave up on her because of all the people who loved the little bookworm. All of them had been influenced and changed by Hermione. The wonderful Gryffindor Princess had changed so many lives; Draco could see that fact just by glancing at the numerous faces. Potter couldn't ever give up hope on a girl that_ good_, it would be immoral. Draco was ashamed that he had given up on her himself.

"Hermione was a woman that I can't even fully describe. If I sat down by myself for an hour, just thinking, I still wouldn't be able to describe her well enough to do her justice. Even now," Draco stated, looking around. "As I see this beautiful service you all have concocted, I still don't think it does Hermione justice. It is beautiful, but not as much a Hermione was. I doubt an angel could be that beautiful."

"I'll be honest now, more honest than I've been in a very long time. Now, as surprising as the next statement will be, it's the truth. I miss Hermione. I miss Hermione Granger a lot." Now everyone simply looked astonished. "I miss the snobby bookworm who would yell at me when I interrupted her studying. I miss the girl who walked into the prefects carriage, glowing with pride at the achievement. I miss the strong woman who let herself be tortured instead of giving in to the wishes of the dark side. I miss Hermione Granger."

With that, Draco stepped down from the podium. Everyone stared at him, gaping. Draco shuffled uneasily. Did everyone know how much he hated Hermione? His consciousness snorted. Of course they did, it wasn't secret in the slightest. Draco quickly found himself a seat in the crowd, trying desperately to ignore the eyes still burning into him. Thankfully, those eyes were quickly averted, because the Weasel had just taken his place at the podium.

Weaselbee seemed to have calmed down. His face was back to its normal color, and besides sending a quick glare Draco's way, he didn't take notice of the Slytherin in the crowd. The Weasel took a deep breath, ran his hand quickly through his hair, and began speaking. His voice was trembling slightly.

"When I met Hermione, she was a bushy haired girl who talked way to fast. She came into mine and Harry's compartment on our first trip aboard the Hogwarts Express. She spoke so fast that I barely understood her. I remember when she left, I turned to Potter and said "whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it." Weasley snorted.

"Looking back, if she had been in any other house, I wouldn't have stood for it. Hermione became one of my best friends, after Potter and I saved her from a mountain troll. She had lied to the teachers for us afterwards, to save us from getting in trouble. She took all the blame, and the teachers believed it. Oh, sorry Mcgonagall," he rushed out. Draco turned to the headmistress. Mcgonagall looked a tad annoyed at this confession.

"She told the professors she had looked for the troll and Harry and I had saved her, when really Harry and I had locked the troll in the same room as her. Our mistake," the Weasel chuckled. Draco found himself very interested, he had never heard this story before. "She was always there for me, no matter what. She stood up for me, she was kind to me, and she on occasion helped me with my homework. The only time she was mean was when we fought, but seriously, who could blame her?" Draco snorted. No one could, the Weasel was very aggravating. Mean was an understatement of how Draco would have acted. The Weasel was still speaking.

"As I got to know Hermione more, I became more amazed by her. Sure, she was stubborn and bossy, but she was kind, and witty, and the smartest girl I've ever known. And before I even realized what I was getting myself into, I had fallen in love with her." Weasel smiled sadly, while Draco stared at him blankly. He couldn't believe that the Weasel was saying all of this. The Weasel never showed emotion, except anger, that was a well-known fact. Hermione was always annoyed by it, also a well-known fact. Draco pondered for a moment. It was Hermione. She was doing this. She brought out the emotions in him. She brought out the good in everyone it seemed. No wonder she was so loved.

"Anyway," Weasel continued. "I fell in love with Hermione Granger. Then for years, we bickered, but remained best friends. I watched as she grew into a beautiful woman, witty, intelligent, caring, and I fell even more in love with her, if that was possible. It was sort of funny, everyone knew that I loved her. I remember Potter just staring at us dubiously while we bickered, as if telling us to get a room. I loved Hermione so much, and I learned during the war, she felt the same way. But for years, the two of us were too proud and stubborn to do anything about it." The Weasel smiled fondly.

"During the battle of Hogwarts, I made a comment about how we needed to get the house elves out, about how we couldn't order them to die for us. For years, Hermione and I had argued about house elf rights. She wanted total equality, and well, I didn't care. But when I showed a little bit of care for the creatures, well, that seemed to be the trigger. Hermione kissed me. It was the best moment of my life, even though, you know, we were in the middle of a battle and life kind of sucked." Everyone laughed.

"And there was Potter, standing next to us, trying to separate us, you know, because of the war. Then for a week, we were happily together. Then, out of the blue, she disappeared. That was the longest day of my life."

"Not a second has gone by since then, when I haven't missed Hermione Granger. I would give anything to have her back. Anything at all. It's been seven years, and I still love her with all my heart. She was a light in my darkness. She always knew what to do. Whenever I have a problem, I think, what would Hermione do? She leads me, even though she's long gone. Even though it's been years since I've seen her, she still helps me. She always will. She will always be there for me."

With that, the Weasel stepped down from the podium, and sat next to his mother, who pulled him into a hug. The crowd didn't notice though, for a hush had fallen upon it. Harry Potter was now standing at the podium. The crowd stared, unblinking, waiting for Harry Potter to speak. Draco leaned forward a bit. Even the Slytherin Prince was anxious to hear what the boy wonder would say. Harry took a breath, and spoke.

"I do not want to be standing here," he said simply. "I do not want to speak to you. I don't want you all to be here. Because, it makes this real. It means that she's actually gone. It means all hope is lost. It means Hermione Granger will never come back." At his words, Draco shifted uncomfortably. Harry continued, speaking fluently.

"I am not ready for that reality. I've lost many people in my life, and I've never been ready for it. Who can be? But, I've moved on, I've continued living. I've accepted that they've passed. But with Hermione, I can't do that. I can't keep living. Every time I start to feel happy, or even laugh, Hermione's face flashes through my mind, and I go numb. How is it fair that I live and she doesn't? How is it fair that we can't even find her body? It isn't, it isn't fair at all. And that's what Hermione was about, fairness. She was fair to everyone, no matter what."

"Hermione was one of the kindest people I've ever met. She was good through and through. She stood by me no matter what, right or wrong, she never yelled when I was being stupid, she never even blamed me. She was perfect, and she doesn't deserve this fate. And she certainly doesn't deserve any of this," he said gesturing around him, at the funeral gathering.

"She deserves parades, and trumpets, and thousands in attendance. She deserves beautiful flowers and the best the world can give. Because she was just that good. She was the best person I've ever met. I can name example after example. But I don't need to, because you all knew her. You all were touched by her goodness, which spread out everywhere she went. So this, this funeral, does not do her justice. And I know, nothing ever will."

"So now, I'm going to speak directly to Hermione, wherever she is. Whether she is looking down at us from heaven, or somewhere else in the world, this is for you 'Mione. I love you, more than words can say. You were always there for me, even when no one else was. I can still see your face in my mind, your eyes bright and sparkling. I can still hear your voice, musical and twinkling. I can still feel your hugs, warm and reassuring. You are a part of me 'Mione. And I'm not giving up on you, not now not ever. Because I know that you would never give up on me."

With that, he stepped down from the podium. Weaslette pulled him into an embrace, tears once again racing down his face. Potter seemed to barely notice his wife's arms trying to comfort him. He was staring blankly out across the lake, as though remembering something. Draco felt very uncomfortable, as though he was violating some intimate scene. He turned his eyes to the ground, and let his thoughts engulf him.

Hermione had touched so many people, and helped so many people in her life. She had been strong for others, and good to others. She was the perfect woman. How had it taken Draco her "sort of" funeral to realize that? Draco looked around at all the various people, crying on others shoulders, hugging everyone in comfort. All these people loved Hermione, and wanted her back no matter what. Draco sighed. He had the key to their happiness, unconscious in Blaises' office. He couldn't withhold her because of his own selfishness. He had to be strong. He had to set her free. He had to be like Hermione. He looked back at Potter. The boy who lived seemed to sense his stare, and they made eye contact.

Draco needed to talk to the boy who lived, now.

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	15. Chapter 15

**Hello everyone! I'm glad you guys liked the last chapter, it was one of my favourites to write. This next chapter is more of an inbetween preparation chapter. Trust me, a lot is on it's way.**

**Thanks for reviewing, I got the most reviews for last chapter than any other chapter.**

**Thanks to my amazing beta. You are fantastic.**

**Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter.**

After the speakers had finished, since there was no real body to bury, each person at the funeral began to simply grieve with the others. Everyone walked around, gave condolences to one another, spoke of their favourite Hermione stories, and so on. Draco walked through the crowd, searching for Potter. He had lost sight of the boy who lived, and needed to find him. As soon as possible.

As Draco zipped through the crowd, he was approached by many. The majority of them wanted to tell him that he had made a beautiful speech. Apparently Draco's innermost thoughts were considered beautiful. Who knew?

He had a brief conversation with Slughorn regarding his current work and such, after the old potions master had told him how moving his speech had been. He was momentarily sought out by Mcgonagall. The headmistress had told him, with a tear in her eye, that she had always known. What that meant, Draco could only guess. Longbottom had shaken his hand, and then had walked away like nothing had happened. Lovegood had sent him a smile, which warmed his heart mightily, and gave him strength. After turning away from Lovegood, Draco continued through the crowd with his eye looking out for the saviour of the wizarding world.

He searched everywhere, throughout the hundreds of people. It seemed as though the boy who lived had disappeared from the funeral completely. Draco was certain he hadn't. Potter would never walk out of his best friend's funeral.

Draco did another lap around the crowd. No Potter. Where was the insufferable hero? He had almost given up, when he spotted a flash of black hair sitting under an old oak right next to the lake. Jackpot, Draco thought, and he headed over. Thank you, Merlin.

The boy who lived was leaning against the oak, staring blankly out across the shimmering surface of the lake. His eyes were brimming with tears once more. The Weaslette, Dinny, or Ginny, yeah Ginny, was holding him with her head on his shoulder. Her red hair was showering down her back, a flame against the black dress she was wearing. Potter didn't seem to notice the woman grasping him possessively. He seemed immersed in his own world. The Weasel sat a few feet away, his tear stained face slightly hidden in the shadow of the tree. It was a scene from a funeral alright. As Draco approached them, he heard Harry speak.

"It's never going to go away, is it? The pain, I mean."

Weaslette looked sat up and looked at him. A little sharply, she spoke.

"You have got to move on, Harry. You _need_ to."

"I don't think I can," Potter replied softly.

The Weasel shot a glare towards his best friend.

Potter continued, not noticing Weasel's glare.

"I never even got to say goodbye. Now, I never will."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," Draco drawled, sauntering into view.

All three sets of eyes shot to him. The Weaslette's eyes were narrowed, and strangely tearless; the Weasel's were enraged, though somewhat less intimidating given that his face was streaked with tears. Draco hardly noticed though, he was too busy staring blankly at Potter.

His eyes were dead; there was no other way to explain it. They were emotionless, and empty, as if they had been tortured into insanity and had just given up. Draco stood there staring at the boy who lived for several moments, before he remembered his purpose.

"I need to talk to Pott- all of you," Draco changed his sentence swiftly. They all deserved to know. They all loved Hermione, every single one. They all needed this news.

"What do you want, ferret?" The Weasel snapped, averting his eyes to the ground. His eyes were now following the trail of an ant as it climbed up a twig.

"That ant's pretty fascinating, eh?" Draco chuckled. The Weasel glared at him through his hair. Draco felt the tension in the air rise. He better talk quick before he got punched in the face.

"What is it, Malfoy?" Potter muttered. His voice was weak, and purposeless.

Draco sighed. "I have some information I believe all of you should know." Congratulations, Draco, you sound like a secret agent. Objective achieved.

"What, Malfoy?" the Weaslette said snarkily. What a little firecracker this one was.

Draco looked them all over. The Weasel was barely paying attention anymore, staring at an ant and not caring, tears dripping down his nose. The Weaslette looked exhausted, and had one eye on him but the other carelessly on the lake, blinking slowly, breathing deeply. Her head was once again resting on Potter's shoulder. Then Draco looked at Potter.

The boy who lived was the only one paying Draco full attention. His eyes were still emotionless and dead, but there was something new in them. A spark of emotion was glowing softly deep in the green. Draco recognized the emotion easily. It was the emotion that could build cities, lead armies, and change lives. People needed it to survive, it thrived in the light, was shocking in the dark, and needed in the black. Draco had lived without it for so long, and now, treasured every moment it entered his life.

It was hope, and now, it was Draco's job to make it happiness.

"It's about Hermione," Draco stated simply. That was the magic word.

Weasley's eyes shot up and widened, Weaslette turned away from Potter's shoulder so fast Draco was sure she had gotten a crick in her neck. Potter just stared at him, the little flicker of hope in his eyes augmenting to a burning flame. The hope was blinding.

"Malfoy, don't mess with us…" the Weasel threatened.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Draco muttered.

"Malfoy….." the Weasel threatened once more. But, Draco interrupted. He had to tell them now.

"Hermione's alive!" he exclaimed. He felt suddenly light, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his soul. He glanced at the three people before him. Their reactions were immediate.

The Weasel froze, his face reeling through all the colours of the rainbow in less than a second. The Weaslette jumped up, and continued to trip backwards over a root. Potter sat still, his face glowing with the light of the sun, as if all his dreams had just come true. Probably because they had.

"What?" the Weasel gasped out.

"Hermione Granger, war heroine is alive and kicking," Draco restated, smiling a tad at the opportunity to use an expression he had heard numerous times in Canada.

"How do you know?" the Weaslette whispered.

"Ran into her," Draco shrugged.

"Ran into, ran into her," the Weasel muttered, pacing and running his hand through his hair.

"Yes, that is correct," Draco stated. He sounded like he was at a business meeting.

"Where has she been?" the Weaslette asked, her face white.

"Long story," Draco stated. "Listen, I'll explain everything, but right now, you guys should come with me."

"Where is she?" the Weasel asked, jumping forward.

"Blaises' office. Unconscious."

"Unconscious?" the Weasel continued, rage entering his voice.

Draco sighed. He didn't want to be punched in the face at the moment. "Do you want to see your missing best friend and true love or not?"

The Weasel and Weaslette nodded, but Draco was looking at Potter. The chosen one hadn't said a thing since Draco had told them the news. Potter seemed to be in a trance. He was staring blankly into space, his eyes alit with happiness.

"Potter?" Draco asked, waving his hand in front of the boy wonder's face. "You coming?"

The boy who lived nodded. He stood up. "No question."

"Should we tell someone?" the Weaslette asked. Draco shook his head immediately.

"Why not?"

Draco rolled his eyes, these people never thought rationally sometimes. "Hermione Granger, best friend of the saviour of our world, war heroine, and complete beauty has come back to grace the wizarding world once more after disappearing seven years ago after the second wizarding world. The news would start a riot."

"Oh," the Weaslette muttered.

"Just apparate to Blaise's office, I'll meet you there," Draco said, and apparated away.

As he disappeared, he caught one more look of Potter. His face was filled with so much happiness it could melt all the ice in the world. Draco felt shocked, he didn't know that kind of happiness existed, Draco had never felt it. It was the happiness poets wrote of, and humans searched for all their lives. It was an impossible goal, pure happiness, and here Potter was, his face covered with it. Draco felt envy course through his veins. This was the happiness he had always wanted, but in a few seconds, he would give away the one person who ever made him feel anything close to that. With that thought in mind, he disappeared.

He landed in Blaises' office rather gracefully. He looked around quickly, finding the room exactly as he had left it. Hermione was still unconscious on the table, and Blaise was sitting at his desk, looking over some files. He looked up at Draco, as he raised his eyebrow.

"What took so long?" Blaise asked.

"I couldn't stop the funeral, so I ended up speaking at it." Blaise jaw dropped, and he snorted.

"You spoke at Hermione's funeral?" he chortled.

"Yes," Draco said, ignoring the laughs erupting from Blaise. "Afterwards, I spoke to Weasel, Weaslette and Potter."

"How'd they take it?" Draco shrugged, not knowing how to describe their reactions.

"Well, where are they?" Blaise asked. The words had just left his mouth when Weasel, Weaslette and Potter all apparated into the office, much more clumsily than Draco had. The three of them caught each other before they fell to the ground. They all looked around, and froze as their eyes settled on Hermione's unconscious form.

"Hermione?" Weasel whispered joyfully. He reached out his hand slowly and tentatively stroked her hair, slowly and carefully.

Draco felt white hot envy course through him. He had to stop himself from launching himself at the Weasel, desperate to rip his throat out.

Calm, Draco, calm, he chanted mentally. Merlin, he needed to get a grip. Draco saw Potter's face go white

"Why didn't she come back?" Potter asked, his eyes glued to his best friend.

Blaise shot Draco a look. "You didn't tell them?" The three Gryffindors looked up, confusion settling into their features.

"Tell us what?" asked Weasel.

Draco sighed. He had been dreading this moment.

"It's a long story," he muttered.

"We've waited seven years, Malfoy," Potter said clearly. "We can handle ten minutes."

There was no way out of it. Draco sighed, and launched into the story.

Approximately ten minutes later, the five of them stood, staring blankly at the unconscious girl on the table.

Potter spoke first. "So she can't remember us?"

"Nope," Draco replied curtly.

"Was she hurt?" Ron whispered, once again stroking Hermione's hairs, his face ashen.

"She said that after her apparent car crash, she was completely covered with cuts and bruises. So yes, she was hurt."

Potter, Weasel and Weaslette winced.

"Do you know who did this?" Potter whispered, deadly.

"Nope," Draco stated. "I only found her a couple weeks ago. I got her here as soon as possible."

"Canada, eh?" Ron asked.

"That's the one," Draco responded. "Muggle Hermione lived in Toronto."

"Why didn't you bring her back sooner?" Weaslette asked, slightly angry.

Draco froze. He had edited the story somewhat. He hadn't told the golden duo and sister about his and Hermione's friendship, or the kiss. He had made it exceptionally vague. For all they knew, he had run into Hermione, talked to her a bit, and a few weeks later brought her back. Blaise had been shooting him covert looks the entire time he was speaking. Whatever, those three didn't need to know about their friendship, it wasn't like they would get to see it close up.

"Umm, I wanted to understand what was happening, so we sort of had some footing when I got her back."

Weasel and Weaslette nodded, satisfied with his answer. Potter didn't seem satisfied though, he seemed to suspect something, and he kept on shooting Draco strange looks. After a couple seconds, Potter's eyes turned back to Hermione.

Potter and Weasel stared down at their best friend. Harry looked up, his face slightly.

"Are you sure she won't recognize us?" he asked, his voice pleading.

"Positive," Draco replied.

"Are you sure it's her?" Potter asked. Weasley and Weaslette immediately started yelling at him, but he held his arms up in protest.

"I just don't want to get my hopes up again," he declared. Draco respected that.

Draco walked up to Hermione, lifted her hair over her shoulders, narrowly avoiding her teeth.

Ron looked at her neck. His eyes widened. "It's her," he nodded, a tear trickling down his cheek.

Harry stood up and walked over, his eyes landing on the thin scar. He smiled.

"Welcome back, Hermione," he said softly, barely louder than a whisper. Everyone smiled at the brunette.

"So, Malfoy, when is she waking up?" Asked the Weasel. Suddenly, as if his words were a trigger, Hermione stirred, her eyes flickering open.

"Right about now," Draco replied.

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	16. Chapter 16

**Hello lovelies. Here's the next chapter. I hit 150 reviews last chapter. I'm shocked. That's amazing. And it's all thanks to you guys. Seriously. You guys are the best readers any writer could ever ask for. Thank you. I don't know if I'll update before Christmas. It depends. Also, the world is apparently ending on Friday. What a fun day that'll be on fb, eh?**

**Anyone, on to the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own Harry Potter.**

Hermione's eyes were wide open now. She sat up slowly, and glanced around at all the people in the room. Not a tad of recognition flashed across her face as she met everyone's eyes. She looked at Draco last, and recognition finally appeared on her face. She seemed to give a sigh of relief.

"Draco," she said, the happiness in her voice was obvious. Everyone else in the room looked at him strangely. Draco felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

"Hey Hermione," he responded, as casually as he could.

"Hey Draco," she said slowly. "What's….ummm… what's going on?"

Draco started to respond, but was cut across by the Weasel.

"Hermione," he said stepping towards where she sat, his arms outstretched. Hermione took one look at him and flinched back involuntarily.

"Don't touch me, ginger," she snarled.

Draco couldn't restrain himself; he snorted. All eyes snapped to him.

"Draco," Hermione said, sliding off of the table, and walking up to the Slytherin. "What's going on?"

"What do you remember?" Draco said, completely lost on how to proceed. Answering questions with a question is wonderful way to cop-out.

"Ummm," Hermione said, running her hand through her hair, her curls parting easily. "We were at Tim Hortons, you were saying goodbye, we were talking, then we left, and…nothing."

"Hermione, do you trust me?" Draco blurted out randomly. Hermione looked at him questioningly.

"Yes," she replied slowly. "You know I do." Draco felt a rush of happiness as her words reached him.

"Then you're going to have to trust me on this."

"Draco, what is going on?" she demanded, sounding scared now, and staring at him with wide eyes. For the first time in the last two weeks, she looked worried. She looked unsure. She didn't know where she stood.

Draco's heart hurt just looking at her. There was a feeling of uncertainty painted across her face. It made him certain of one thing: he needed to tell her everything, now.

How could he do this? It was so much more complicated than telling Potter, Weasel and Weaslette. They remembered Hermione, they had missed her. They were surprised of her situation, but they had understood. Hermione was about to have her world blown to pieces. Draco wasn't sure she would be able to pick herself up from the rubble. If Draco was in her situation, he didn't think he had the capacity to pick himself up.

But this was Hermione. There was nothing she couldn't do. This was the girl who had fought in the Wizarding War. This was the girl who had let her be tortured for her friends. This was the girl who had changed his entire world view. This was Hermione fucking Granger. She could do anything.

How could Draco have forgotten?

He started the explanation. Hermione could survive this. He knew she could. "Hermione, remember how earlier, at the Tim Hortons, you said you thought there was a connection between the two of us?" Hermione nodded casually, though still looking confused. In the background, Potter, Weasel, Weaslette and Blaise all looked stricken.

"Well, there is a connection, in a way." Hermione looked confused. She ran a shaky hand through her caramel locks. Draco continued. "The truth is, we didn't meet two weeks ago when I knocked you over."

"Alright…" Hermione said slowly, shaking slightly.

"We met fourteen years ago, on our first day of school."

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked cautiously. She seemed to be concerned for Draco's mental health.

"No, Hermione, I'm not alright. But I'm not crazy either. Hermione, you need to trust me. Do you trust me?"

Hermione met his eyes. Draco saw hundreds of emotions race across her face. Eventually, she nodded, quite timidly, but kept their eye contact. Draco took a deep breath.

"We met because we went to school together for six years. And the school we went to," deep breath, "was a school for magic."

Hermione stared at him blankly for a few moments. Now, fear was the dominant emotion in her expression.

"You're crazy," she said, her voice trembling. She started backing up from him a bit, and in the process bumped into the table.

"Listen Hermione," Draco said quickly, with a tad of desperation. "I'll prove it."

"You try that," she said, trying to back up more. The table prevented that. She began to look around frantically, trying to find a way out. Draco was vaguely reminded of a caged animal from the wild. But he still needed to do this.

"Alright, I will," Draco declared loudly. He whipped out his wand from his pocket. Hermione saw the wand, and seem to think it was some kind of weapon. She froze and turned white. Draco hated himself for scaring her like this, but he needed to do what was best in the long run.

He waved his wand and pointed it at the table. The table burst into flames.

Hermione jumped nearly two meters into the air, and fell into Draco's arms, hiding her face in his chest. Draco felt his heart stutter as she clutched at him. In her surprise and fright, she had forgotten he had caused the fire. He didn't particularly mind her momentary memory lapse. The irony in that statement, oh merlin.

His arms rose of their own accord and wrapped around her. She only curled deeper into his chest.

She lifted her face from his chest and looked up at him. "You set the desk on fire," she stated fearfully, yet amazement was evident in her voice. Draco nodded and led her over to the still burning desk. The second Hermione saw where he was leading her, she started to frantically fight against him. He did not release his grip. Hermione kept fighting to get away.

"Do you trust me?" he leant down and whispered in her ear, trying to restrain her struggling form. After a few seconds, she stopped struggling. Draco released her. She looked at him, and tentatively nodded her head. Draco smiled. She still trusted him

He held out his hand, which she eyed warily. Draco waited. Hermione's own hand slowly creeped up and clasped his. He smiled once more.

Draco took her trembling hand, and slowly placed it on the burning desk.

Hermione flinched, but didn't take her hand off. Her entire demeanor seemed to change in less than a second. From being stiff and fearful, she became amazed.

She stared at her hand on the desk wondrously. She turned and looked up at Draco, her eyes filled with childish wonder.

"It's cold," she smiled, her voice filled with the same wonder as her eyes.

Draco returned the smile and nodded.

Hermione removed her hand from the still flaming desk, looked it over, and placed it back at her side. She met his eyes, face elated. "Magic exists." She whispered joyfully.

"Want more proof?" he asked. She nodded quickly, smiling more than he had ever seen her smile. He chuckled at her excitement, it was rather entertaining. But, who could blame her for being excited?

He lifted his wand once more, this time pointing it at his head. He muttered a few well-chosen words, knowing he was going to regret this, and turned his hair bright pink.

Hermione burst out laughing. Draco smiled at her amusement, even though it was at his expense. He tried not to blush. She reached up and ran her fingers through his bright pink hair. His skin tingled as Hermione's fingers grazed across it. The blush he'd been avoiding began to creep up his cheek.

"Pink really isn't your colour," she chuckled softly.

"Don't I know it," Draco chortled. He met her eyes, and the two of them seemed to exchange something. Draco felt a strange tingling across his body. Hermione just continued to smile at him. Her face was radiant.

Draco heard discreet coughing, and glanced at the other people in the room. He had nearly forgotten they were there. Potter was staring at him blankly, with his face white and slightly angry. Blaise looked astounded. The Weasel looked murderous. Weaslette had gone blank. Well, this was uncomfortable.

"So Draco," Hermione asked, drawing his attention back to her. He only just noticed how close the two of them were standing. He didn't particularly mind, though. "Magic exists, eh?"

Draco laughed. "That's correct madam."

Hermione smiled. "That's amazing. But, back to what you said before, how do I know you? Something to do with school?"

Draco sighed. "Just bear with me, here." She nodded eagerly. "So, we went to school together for six years, at a magic school called Hogwarts. But the wizarding world isn't all cold fire and pink hair." Hermione chuckled at that.

"There was this wizard who went bad. Voldemort. Anyway, he managed to take over the wizarding world. You, along with the black haired man and ginger behind you," with this Hermione glanced over her shoulder at the golden duo, who both smiled reassuringly. …."were integral parts of defeating him, which you managed to do, seven years ago. Then, a week after the black haired man over there killed the darkest wizard of all time, you disappeared from the face of the planet. No one could find you, until two weeks ago when I ran into you after the hockey game."

Hermione looked pensive for a moment. Draco could practically hear the gears in her mind turning. "That's why you recognized me on sight," she realized. "That's why you knew me. I _am_ the girl you knew." Draco nodded. "Why don't I remember you?" she questioned.

"This isn't certain, but I believe a dark wizard captured you, erased your memory and dumped you in the non-magic world." Hermione shivered, and looked down to the ground.

"The car crash," she murmured. She looked him in the eye. "There never was a car crash was there?"

Draco shook his head. She shivered again, and looked at him, tears forming in her eyes. "All the bruises and cuts? The broken ribs? The months in recovery? The ruined life?"

"They did it, the dark ones," Draco said softly. Hermione let out a sob. Draco brought her into a hug, and let Hermione cry into his chest for a few moments. She quickly got a grip on herself, and pulled back a little, though not letting go of Draco. His heart smiled at that.

"So that's my life, eh?" she sniffled. "Magic, magic, torture, memory wipe, new life." Hermione sniffled, but managed to calm down. Draco was impressed. She was handling this amazingly well. She was a little emotional sure, but who wouldn't be?

"Could you tell me about my real life?" Hermione asked softly, avoiding his eyes, as if ashamed of her wish to know who she actually was.

"Well, Hermione, you and I kind of hated each other, so I can't, but those two," he said, pointing at the golden duo, "were your best friends. They can fill you in."

Hermione nodded, and walked, somewhat reluctantly, towards Potter and Weasel. As she did, she grabbed Draco's hand and pulled him along with her. She stopped in front of the two Gryffindors, who were eyeing her and Draco's intertwined hands.

"So, hi," Hermione said warily. The Weasel and Potter pulled their eyes back to Hermione.

"Hi, Hermione," Potter smiled. That man's smile was blinding.

"We've missed you," the Weasel said.

"Who are you?" asked Hermione shyly. Draco had to bite down on his lip to stop from laughing.

Potter chuckled and introduced the two of them. They then launched into the story of Hermione's life. Hermione listened intently, though a flash of recognition never crossed her features. Draco was watching.

Draco listened to the story as well. He found this all fascinating. He had never gotten a first-hand account of the majority of these tales. He listened as Potter and Weasel, with occasional help from Weaslette, told thrilling tales of beating trolls, of three headed dogs, killer chess pieces, giants snakes, time turners, werewolves, dragons, balls, tournaments, secret organizations, rebelling, fighting bad guys, parties, potions, camping, horcruxes, fighting, relationships and everything magical. They spent several hours going over everything they had ever experienced with Hermione. Though, Draco noticed, they didn't tell her about when they had been captured at Malfoy Manor. They told the big stories, the little ones, the memorable conversations and even Hermione's epic one liners. Draco burst out laughing while Potter told them all that once, while Hermione was explaining to Weasel and Potter how emotions worked, she had said that even though the Weasel had the emotional range of a teaspoon didn't mean they all had. Hermione was witty, he'd give her that. They were just going over the finer details of the Hermione's life when Blaise cut them off.

"I think that's enough for tonight," Blaise said.

"I didn't know your life was so interesting," Draco said, smiling at Hermione.

"You don't know me that well then, Mr. Malfoy," she smirking slightly.

"So," Blaise said, interrupting them. "Where do we go from here?"

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione, her confusion evident.

"Well Hermione," Blaise explained. "You are one of the most well-known people in the entire wizarding world. You are the best friend of our saviour, you are a war heroine and your funeral was today. How the hell do we tell the world you're back?"

Hermione stayed silent for a moment. "My funeral was today?"

Draco nodded. "Hence I brought you back today." Hermione nodded. "Thanks for everything Draco," she murmured, not meeting his eye. Draco smiled. She squeezed his hand. He hadn't even realized she was still holding it.

Hermione turned to Blaise. "Do you have a washroom?" He nodded. "I'll take you there. I'll make sure no one notices you before we have a plan." She smiled at him. Hermione released Draco's hand. It seemed to go cold the second Hermione's hand untangled from it.

Hermione stood up and left the office with Blaise trailing behind her. The second they left the Weasel and Potter advanced on him. Bloody hell.

"Alright, Malfoy," the Weasel hissed venomously. "I'll give you one chance. I know you didn't tell us everything. What the hell happened with you and Hermione in Canada?"

Draco stood there stunned for a second at Weasel's outburst. But he knew that he'd have to tell them. He didn't fancy being beaten up.

"Well, we hung out every day for a couple of weeks, and became pretty good friends…" he muttered, trying to keep everyone calm. Potter glared. The boy wonder's face was very angry.

"That's not all, Malfoy, and you know it. Tell us the bloody truth now," Potter threatened. Too bad he wasn't in the least bit threatening.

"Well, yesterday," Draco took a deep breath. Here we go. Better to just get it over with. "She kissed me," Draco stated clearly, holding his ground, looking them directly in the eye. Everything was out now. The chips will fall where they may. The golden duo and Weaslette seemed to be getting hit by those falling chips. That answer was definitely not what they were expecting.

The Weasel's face went red, bright scarlet. He seemed to be steaming from the ears, as if his entire head was on fire. Draco could feel the waves of rage radiating off of him, suffocating everyone in the room. Potter was the opposite. Instead of going on fire, he turned to ice. He froze completely, still as ice, staring blankly forward, as his jaw fell to the floor, his eyes widening to the size of saucers. It was rather comical, except rage was radiating off of Potter as well. The Weaslette's jaw dropped as well, but she recovered quickly. Instead of yelling, she turned to her husband, to monitor his reaction to the news. Once she saw his obvious anger, her eyes narrowed.

"You and Hermione….kissed?" Potter asked, disbelievingly. His voice was angry, but he was obviously trying to keep it under control.

"Pretty much," Draco shrugged, enjoying the various reactions. He felt like a teenager again, rubbing an accomplishment in the Golden Trio's face, or getting them in detention. He felt so superior right now.

Merlin, he was mature.

"HOW DARE YOU!" The Weasel exploded. Well, that reaction was to be expected.

The Weasel ran forward, face blazing and fist in the air. Draco could spot a punch from about a mile away. Draco dodged easily, given that the Weasel had no sense to be conspicuous in his violent streak. Ginger king went barreling past him and ran into the wall, falling to the ground. Draco burst out laughing at Weasel's feeble attempts to get revenge. Really, this guy had nothing going for him, like at all.

As he laughed, he heard the office door open.

Hermione and Blaise had returned. They both stood in the open doorway, taking in the situation, Potter frozen, Weasel on the ground, Weaslette glaring and Draco laughing. Hermione met his eyes and smiled, giggling slightly. Blaise raised his eyebrows, looking around and taking in the damages.

"What'd we miss?"

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	17. Chapter 17

**I am so so sorry that this is late! I had some trouble getting in touch with my beta. I really hope the chapter makes up for the wait. **

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**Tomorrow's my birthday! That's completely unrelated, but just though I'd mention it.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter.**

"What'd we miss?" asked Blaise again, glancing around at the situation in his office.

Draco shook his head, still chortling. "Nothing, mate, Weasley fell over." They didn't really need to know what had just happened.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Well, now that you are all done with being children, we should figure how to proceed."

"Right, right," Draco nodded, finally getting a grip on himself. Merlin, he hadn't laughed like that in a while. The others in the office stood up, unfroze, or otherwise started paying attention.

"So, for now, what should we do with Hermione?" Blaise asked. The Gryffindor Princess in question looked up at him. She looked confused, to say the least.

"Well, don't I have a home I should get back to?" she questioned, slowly.

Draco didn't know. He wasn't particularly knowledgeable on that aspect of her life.

But Potter and Weasel were. Weasel was still huffing from the attempted punch, but Potter was paying attention. He shuffled, obviously uncomfortable. "Well…..no," Potter muttered not meeting her eyes.

Hermione cocked her eyebrow. "_No_? How can it be no?" Potter started to explain, but Weasel cut across him.

"Well Hermione," Weasel said quickly, Potter shooting him a glare. "You went to boarding school for seven years before disappearing, so that was your home for a long time, but now you're too old for that. Over the summers you stayed with your parents, but before the final war you erased your parents' memories and sent them off to Australia."

"Why I'd do that?" Hermione asked, dumbfounded.

"To protect them," Potter replied, admiration evident. Saint Potter obviously admired Hermione's selflessness.

"So my parents are gone?" Hermione asked quietly.

Potter seemed uncomfortable with the subject. "Well….yes," he replied slowly, as if testing the waters.

Hermione nodded, processing that information. She took a couple seconds, and finally made a conclusion. "So I have no place to stay," Hermione concluded sadly.

Draco Malfoy wasn't a sympathetic person. He never had been, and likely never would be. But as he looked at Hermione's downcast expression, he felt nothing but sympathy for the poor heroine. The look on her face struck him, deep in the gut. He felt terrible for her. Only a monster wouldn't.

Hermione's world had just turned upside down, again. Everything was new, nothing was the same. Or at least, she didn't know anything was the same. She was handling this fairly well, but no one could deny that her life had been ripped away from her, and now her fake life was being ripped away from her in a similar fashion. She had nothing to hold on to. She had no comfort to remind her of who she was. She probably barely knew who she was. All her ties to the world had been cut, and she needed those ties. Everyone needed ties. She needed familiarity, she needed friendship, she needed something to hold on to, she needed…"

"Me," he whispered. Only Hermione heard him. She caught his eye and a sort of understanding passed between them. She smiled, a sparkle twinkling in her eyes.

"Can I stay with you?" she asked, her big brown eyes warm.

That warmth spread through Draco just by looking in her eyes. He felt joyful and uplifted, so it was with a gleeful smile that he replied, "I'd be honoured."

The three Gryffindors in the room were shocked. Their jaws all dropped as they watched on the scene with disbelief. The Weasel went red and started stuttering incoherencies. Blaise just stood there, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, smirking slightly. Draco barely noticed. He was still smiling at Hermione.

"So, should we head there now?" Hermione asked, still smiling.

"You should definitely leave now," Blaise jumped in. "The sooner we get you out of here, the less chance someone will find you."

"We don't want people to find me?" Hermione asked, confused once again.

"Not now," Blaise stated. "We need a plan first, otherwise we're screwed." Hermione chuckled softly at Blaise's statement.

"You really want to stay with_ Malfoy_?" the Weasel finally burst out. He had been steadily turning redder and had finally managed to turn his incoherencies into, well, coherencies.

Hermione turned to him, her eyes slightly annoyed. Draco became apprehensive immediately. Hermione, when she was annoyed, was frightening, but if her annoyance increased into anger, Weasel would be fried.

"Of course I do, Ron," she said shortly. Weasel was in dangerous waters. Everyone in the room took a step back, except Ginger. He was obviously too thick to notice. Draco leant against a wall, and bit down his lip to stop a chuckle from escaping. This was going to be hilarious.

"Hermione, you've hated him for years! He's done nothing but torture you, figuratively and literally! He is nothing but a horrible waste of a human flesh and bones! And frankly, I'm starting to think when your memory was taken away, so was your sanity!"

"Oh shit," Draco muttered softly. There was a line. Weasel had just crossed it, and Hermione was not very happy.

In all of Draco's years, he had never seen Hermione as she was right now. Not when she had punched him, not when the Inquisitorial squad had captured the DA. Not even when the library was closed for cleaning. She seemed to have gained several meters of height. Her eyes were blazing with fire, intensely suffocating the room. Draco found himself momentarily awed. She was a warrior in this moment. Magnificent and strong and beautiful. She could be an amazon. Hermione, the Gryffindor Warrior Princess. Quite a title, but Hermione deserved it.

The Weasel gulped. He had noticed his precarious situation.

"Draco Malfoy is my friend," she stated, her voice dangerous, her eyes blazing, her hair crackling with electricity. "He has been nothing but kind to me for the last few weeks. He has done things for me you wouldn't have done in a million years. If my sanity is lost while liking someone who has done nothing but help me, then I don't want to be sane!" she finished, with one final blaze of fire flourishing behind her eyes. Draco nodded appreciatively. Hermione had a temper on her. He liked it.

The Weasel looked stunned at Hermione's rage. He backed up a few meters, and shut his mouth. He shot Draco one last look of disgust and hate, before lowering his eyes to the ground. Draco smirked.

Blaise looked slightly amused, but just ignored it. He continued with the original conversation. "So, we should bring you over to Draco's now. You can set up there and we can figure out how to tell the world later."

Everyone nodded. Well, everyone except the Weasel, he was still staring at the floor. Blaise shot the ginger a look but continued once more. He was good at this ignoring thing.

"Should we apparate her?" Blaise asked, but Draco shook his head immediately.

"It's alright when she's unconscious, but it'll freak her out now. She might vomit her first time, I did," Draco chuckled, reminiscing on his first apparation trip. It had been terrible.

"What's apparation?" Hermione asked eagerly. Draco smiled at her fondly. It was endearing how fascinating Hermione found the magical world.

Endearing? Did he just use endearing to describe Hermione? Merlin, he felt like a complete softie.

"It's a type of travel, where you disappear into thin air and reappear somewhere else," Potter explained quickly. Hermione eyes widened in amazement. The word endearing popped back into Draco's mind. He smiled once more.

"But, it's hard to do, and even though you used to be able to do it, you forgot. So it'd be dangerous to take you," stated Blaise. Hermione nodded, though looking slightly disappointed.

"So we should travel using muggle means," Draco said. "We'll ease you into the magical world slowly. It's going to be a whirlwind."

Hermione snorted. "You say that like the whirlwind hasn't started already."

Blaise looked at them, snorting slightly to himself. "Well, if we're going to bring her to your house muggle style, we should get a cab. This means we have to walk through the entire ministry of magic to the visitor's entrance, without being spotted. Fantastic," he finished sarcastically.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Come on, Blaise. We've got this. Not that many people are here today, the majority took the day off because of the funeral."

Hermione looked astounded. "The majority took the day off because of my funeral?" Everyone nodded. Hermione smiled. "I must've been important."

"You still are," Draco whispered, more to himself than the others. No one heard him though. Thank Merlin.

"So," Blaise started once more. "We can probably just walk to the front, if we go in a group, and hide Hermione in the middle."

Draco stared at Blaise. "Or, you know, we could camouflage her. We are, you know, wizards."

Blaise blushed a tad, but stood his ground. "Yeah, we could do that." He turned to Hermione. "I'm going to dillusion you. I'll cast a spell that allows you to blend into the background. Feels a bit weird, but you'll get used to it." Hermione nodded eagerly. Blaise smiled and cast the spell over Hermione. She immediately blended into the background. You could see the outline of her figure for a moment. Draco stared. He hadn't noticed how curvaceous she was.

"This is amazing!" said her voice from somewhere near his shoulder height.

"Yes," Blaise nodded. "Now, everyone, stand around Hermione. We'll walk like this to the front, and then Draco and Hermione can head out in cab." The others nodded. Potter and Weasel glared, but did as they were told. Draco stood in front of Hermione, Potter and Weasel on her right, Weaslette on her left, and Blaise at the back.

They all headed out of the Blaise's office, into the auror office, then the elevators, and into the atrium. There was not a soul around. They got lucky. In areas that were usually overpopulated, there were, instead, tumbleweeds blowing through. Not a single soul was around. Draco was feeling very lucky, thanking the wizard gods. He was fully confident that this would work out.

Then they arrived at the atrium.

It was all downhill from there.

The atrium was completely full of people, which was saying something, since the atrium was huge. It was packed to the brim with witches, wizards, house elves, reporters, even a goblin or two. It seemed that everyone had come from the funeral. Draco recognized the majority of the people, some ministry employees, some old Hogwarts Alumni.

There were also many reporters there. Rita Skeeter was at the head of the group of pariahs. It astounded Draco that the bitch was still a reporter. She was horrible.

When the group protecting Hermione had walked out of the elevators, everyone seemed to turn in their direction. The large group seemed to be expecting them. The excitement level rose exceptionally and everyone started babbling. Draco turned around quickly, his heart pounding. Thank merlin, Hermione was still camouflaged.

"Mr. Potter!" The reporters yelled, running up to them. Their group suddenly stopped. They couldn't get to the door. There was a wall of reporters blocking them, then after that, another wall, consisting of almost every person in the entire wizarding world. Then, in the far distance, the door.

Great.

All the reporters in front were shouting various questions at them. Though the deafening noise lessened the ability to understand them, Draco understood the generalities. They were all asking about Hermione.

"Oi! Shut it!" roared Potter. The endless noise dialed down immediately. Potter breathed a sigh of relief and continued. "I have had a very hard day, so if my friends and I could pass please…..

"Mr. Potter!" cried a voice near the front. It belonged to a middle aged man in a suit, dark hair and a press batch. He had a notebook opened and a quick quotes quill poised to scribble. Potter sighed in defeat, (what a pushover), and nodded, giving the man permission to speak.

"Bill Crocket, Daily Prophet, sir," the reporter started. "As we are all aware, today was the service for the long missing war heroine, Hermione Granger. What motivated you to suddenly have the service, given that she has been missing for years?"

Potter shifted uncomfortably, but stood his ground. "Because I know Hermione Granger. She would not have wanted me to waste my life wasting after her. I love Hermione so much, and I will never truly let her go, but I suddenly realized that I had to start living again, because otherwise, Hermione would be so angry with me."

The quick quotes quill was going nuts on the page, as other reporters started to yell out questions. Draco shot a look at Harry, glaring at the ground in aggravation. The Saint obviously didn't like this sudden press conference. Now that he thought about it, Draco didn't like it much either.

"Mr. Potter!" shouted another voice, shriller than the other one. Draco quickly found the source of the squeak, a young twenty year old girl. It was a girl Draco would have dated in school, blonde, great body, vacant expression. It was a bimbo reporter.

"Ella Vacon, Witch Weekly," she smiled, batting her eyes slightly. Her attempt at flirting was horrifying because it was Potter she was attempting to flirt with. "As we are all aware, at the moment you are married to Ginny Weasley, another war heroine. However, my readers would like to know if you were ever involved with Hermione Granger?"

Draco couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. Everyone in the room glared at him, and even Hermione behind him whispered "shut up" in his ear. He couldn't help it though, it was so funny. Potter was the one who was always saying "loved her like a sister", and even in school their relationship screamed platonic. He didn't even know why he found it that funny, it was just so absurd. He managed to stop laughing, as Potter shot him another glare before answering.

"No, Hermione and I were never involved. I loved Hermione as a sister and she felt the same about me. There was never a time where I considered another option, it was always simple with Hermione. She is my sister. Plain and simple."

Throughout his answer, Weasel and Weaslette were also shooting Potter looks. Once Potter had finished, Draco saw Weasel inch closer to the camouflaged Hermione.

The bimbo nodded, still batting her eyelashes and scribbled down his answer. The reporters pounced again. Draco rolled his eyes and felt a wave of pity for Potter. It must suck to have to deal with all of the crazy press every second of the day.

"I have a question for Mr. Malfoy!" shouted a voice. Draco turned to the woman asking, raising an eyebrow. What could she possibly want ask him?

"Ferrara Eleanor, International Wizarding Times," she stated. She was a middle aged woman, decently attractive, but not flirty like the Witch Weekly bimbo. This reporter was a professional.

"It's been common knowledge that you and Hermione Granger never got along, but today, you gave a beautiful speech at her service. When and why did your opinion change?"

Good lord these reporters had no boundaries. Draco hated this. But, against his own will, he began to think of an answer.

He had no idea really, when or why his opinion of Hermione had changed. It had just happened. Over his time at Hogwarts, when he had thought of Hermione he hadn't been disgusted. He hadn't even realized it until all these years later. Now he cared about Hermione, no question. What was the trigger though? He couldn't answer that, but the reporter was still waiting.

Draco spoke softly, but he voice carried throughout the room. "My opinion of Hermione was always one of respect. I only noticed it when I stopped being such a moron."

Everyone chuckled, even the people standing up at the front with him. He could even hear a small twinkling laugh charming its way to his ear. He grinned. Hermione agreed.

Suddenly, a cold wind seemed to blow through the atrium. Draco felt a chill go down his back. The saying "someone walking over your grave" came to mind. He looked around for the source of the rush of cold air, when he felt Hermione's hand touch his shoulder. He looked at it. He almost passed out.

Her hand didn't blend in. The spell had worn off. She was visible once more, and everyone noticed.

The room had gone silent, as all eyes fell on Hermione. When Weasel had inched towards her, he accidently moved the wrong way, leaving a large gap in the group. Now, Hermione could be seen all throughout the room. No one said a word, as everyone stared in shock. Draco caught Hermione's eye. Fear filled her face.

"Bollocks," muttered Draco.

The room exploded. The reporters rushed forward, all snapping pictures and shouting randomly. The people at the back of the room stared forward in shock. Draco saw the reactions of all Hermione's old friends. Mother Weasley was crying, a smile spread across her face. Mcgonagall was completely white, her hand over her mouth. Seamus was gawking, and Luna was grinning as though she knew all along. Draco caught her eye, and she winked.

Potter rushed forward, trying to dispel the reporters, before Hermione was mobbed. She looked very frightened now, but she stood her ground. Draco smirked. That Gryffindor bravery truly was a part of her. Draco knew though, that if she was mobbed, she was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed.

He turned to her, and she mouthed HELP. Draco nodded. He grabbed her arm, and turned to the Weaslette, given that she was closest.

"I'll take her to Malfoy Manor, the wards are strong." The Weaslette nodded, understanding.

Draco tightened his grip on Hermione and said to her quickly, "this is going to be strange, just hold on tight." Hermione nodded, and hugged him, gripping him fiercely. Draco was momentarily distracted, but with his lack of wanting to be splinched, he regained focus. He gripped Hermione and apparated away from the incoming mob, the shocked old school mates, and the reality they would soon have to face. Right now though, Draco simply wanted to get away.

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	18. Chapter 18

**I'm so sorry for taking so long to update! I had exams, so I've been incredibly busy. But, I'm back now, so hopefully updates will be more regular.**

**Guys I hit 100 favourites last chapter! *squeal* You guys are amazing.**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own Harry Potter.**

**Here we go.**

Draco landed gracefully on the lawn in front of the Manor. Hermione wasn't as lucky. She tripped over a root and almost fell on her face. Luckily, Draco grabbed her before she hit the ground. She stumbled to her feet and didn't move for a moment; Draco thought she was going to topple over, but she stayed steady.

"That was an…..interesting…..sensation," she said softly. Draco chuckled.

"Takes a while to get used to," he replied. He was surprised she hadn't thrown up. Good for Hermione.

He took Hermione's arm and began to lead her up to the Manor. Hermione's eyes widened as she took in the majestic home, the sculptures, the towers, the stained glass windows.

"What is this place?" she asked wondrously, her eyes glazed over.

"Malfoy Manor," he replied simply. "It's where I grew up. I originally was going to take you to my flat, but the wards are stronger here, which would be helpful in our current predicament."

"Wards?" she asked, still looking in awe at the manor.

"Invisible, impenetrable shields, blocking people from entering the premises," Draco responded.

Hermione nodded, and began to speak once again.

"Was that thing, that transport thing you did apparation?" she asked. Draco nodded.

"Could I do that before, the disappearing and reappearing thing?" she asked excitedly. Draco smiled.

"When we all took lessons in sixth year, you were the first person who was able to do it. You passed the test with flying colours." Hermione grinned proudly at this, her face shining with pride. Draco took a moment to just watch. The pride on her face briefly reminded him of the first time they had gotten a piece of homework back. The look on Hermione's face back then was almost identical to the look on her face now.

They had reached the front steps. The two of them ascended them quickly. Draco opened the door to the manor and walked inside, Hermione trailing quickly in his wake. They arrived in the front entrance, with large staircases trailing up on either side of a large family tree tapestry. Draco glared at it for a moment. The Malfoy bloodline had caused him many problems.

With a sudden and unexpected crack, a house elf appeared before them. Hermione gave a small jump. The house elf was grinning broadly, wearing an old tea towel with the Malfoy crest. The Malfoys used to have their house elves wear pillow cases, but after Lucius was imprisoned, Narcissa decided to be a tad kinder to the creatures.

"Master Draco!" the little elf squeaked. "Welcome back! What may I do to assist you and your guest?"

"Hi Totter," Draco replied. He had always liked this little elf. He began to work for their family shortly after Lucius was put away. "I was wondering where my mother was."

"She is up in the library," Totter replied.

"Thank you, oh and also, could you prepare two rooms? My guest and I will be staying here for some time." The little elf nodded, bowed to the two of them and disappeared with another loud crack. Draco took Hermione's arm once more and began to lead her up one of the staircases.

"Was that a house elf?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, it was," Draco replied, anticipating her reaction. He didn't particularly want to hear about SPEW.

"They had sweet faces," she said, smiling. "Are they paid for their services?"

Draco snorted. "I'll tell you later."

Draco continuously led her through the halls, upstairs, downstairs, until they finally reached large wooden doors that led to the library. "You'll like this," he told her, and entered the room.

Hermione's face immediately lit up in elation. She gazed with glassy eyes at the endless shelves of books on every wall. "This is brilliant," she breathed.

Draco chuckled. "I knew you'd think so."

Draco headed to the back of the library, Hermione rushing quickly after him, though her eyes never left the books. She was so predictable.

Draco quickly spotted his mother sitting in her favourite arm chair, a plush green one by an open window. Draco turned to Hermione, and muttered quickly, "stay here, behind these books, until I call you out." Hermione looked at him curiously but didn't object. She instead turned to the books and began reading all the titles. Draco chuckled softly, and went over to talk to his mother.

"Mother!" he said, walking up to her. She looked up from the book she was reading, and smiled.

"Draco! What a pleasant surprise. What on earth are you doing here? I was under the impression you were in Canada."

"I was," Draco responded. "I just got back today." Narcissa nodded and pulled Draco into a hug. "I missed you," she said. "It's been so lonely in the manor without you."

Draco smiled, trying to ignore the guilt that washed over him. "Well, you won't be lonely for long."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow, and Draco continued. "When I was in Canada, I ran into an old classmate. She needs a place to stay for a while." Narcissa's eyes widened at the word "she". Draco rolled his eyes. Once a mother, always a mother.

"Well, Draco," Narcissa said, a smile upon her face. "Where is she?"

Draco turned to the bookcase which Hermione was hiding behind, and exclaimed, "You can come out now."

Hermione slowly came out from behind the shelves, rather timidly with her brown eyes large. Narcissa's face went slack for a moment, and her jaw dropped. Seriously, the number of jaws Draco had seen drop over the last few days was nearing infinity. A smile appeared on his mother's face, and Draco swore he saw a tear leak from the corner of her eye. Draco blinked and looked again. The tear was gone. It must have been a trick of the light.

"Hermione Granger?" Narcissa breathed.

Hermione smiled rather nervously. "Hello, Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa stood up and walked up to Hermione, looking over every inch of her. "I haven't seen you in years."

Hermione smiled, more confidently than before. "Apparently no one has."

Narcissa chuckled. "True, true." Narcissa looked over Hermione once more, her grin growing broader by the moment. "Where have you been for the last seven years?"

Hermione motioned to Draco to explain. His mother turned towards him, eyebrow raised.

"Well, she was kidnapped, tortured, obliviated, and dumped in muggle Canada. She has been there since her disappearance, living a muggle life with no memory of Hogwarts, Voldemort, or even the magical world."

His mother flinched slightly at the mention of Voldemort's name. However, she turned back to Hermione, her face soft and gentle. Draco smiled. His mother was a loving, kind, and caring person. But no one gave her the chance to show that side of her because she was a Malfoy.

"Oh you poor dear," Narcissa said, pulling Hermione into a hug. Hermione looked surprised but returned the hug none the less.

"Umm…Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione said, pulling back. "How do I know you?"

Narcissa's expression turned cautious. Draco understood. He thought back to the few times Hermione and his mother had met. They were not very good memories.

"We've met a few times," Narcissa replied vaguely. "And dear, call me Narcissa."

Hermione smiled and tested it. "Alright….Narcissa."

"Mother?" Draco asked, drawing her attention away from the brunette. "Are the wards up?"

Narcissa nodded a little confused. "Yes dear, always. Why?"

"Because we just ran away from the entire wizarding world, and I assume you don't want to be mobbed."

Narcissa looked shocked. "What happened?"

Draco explained the situation to his mother, the story of getting Hermione there, from the funeral all the way to her exposure at the Ministry. He recited the story with only half of his brain focusing. The other half was watching Hermione. The brunette seemed very nervous, twitching at slight noises, and she kept glancing around frighteningly. Draco felt concerned for her, but had to tell his mother what was happening.

"So then we apparated away," Draco concluded. Narcissa nodded.

"Well, no reporter is getting in here," she said firmly. She turned to Hermione. "My dear, Draco will lead you up to a bedroom. You've had a very long day; maybe some rest would do you good."

Hermione nodded.

"I'll talk to you later," Draco said to his mother, and led Hermione out of the library. Once they had passed through several corridors and up a few staircases, Draco stopped and turned to Hermione.

"Are you alright?" he asked, voice laced with concern. "You've seemed nervous since we got here."

Hermione shivered. "You noticed that?" He nodded. "Well, something about this house gives me the creeps. I honestly don't know what it is, it's just giving me shivers."

Draco understood. The only other time Hermione had been in the Manor had been when his psycho aunt had tortured her. That was enough to give anyone the shivers.

"I understand that," he replied softly. He slipped an arm around her waist, and began to lead her down the corridor. They arrived at a large wooden door, which Draco led her through. He turned to look at her face. He was expecting a reaction this time.

Her face lit up, and her eyes widened, gleaming slightly. She smiled. Draco removed his arm from her waist and she walked into the room. She spun around in a circle, her curley hair bouncing around her as she spun.

"This is brilliant," she cried. Draco smiled, he understood where she was coming from. Just because he had been raised in a house with high banister beds, private balconies and luscious carpets, doesn't mean he didn't appreciate it.

"I'm glad you like it," Draco smiled. He placed his hands in his pockets as Hermione began bouncing on the bed. Draco snorted.

"There are some extra pyjamas in the dresser and that's the restroom," he said, pointing to another door at the other end of the room. "I'll be in the room right across the hall if you need anything."

"Alright," she replied, bouncing off the bed. "And she sticks the landing," she laughed. Draco smiled once more, and headed into the room across the hall.

It was the bedroom of his childhood, but basically stripped off all his possessions. Only the bed and his dresser were left. "Well, this won't do," Draco thought. He turned on his heel and quickly apparated to his flat in central London. He gathered up one of the boxes he had recently unpacked, and repacked it with a few necessary items. He quickly apparated back, landing in the location he had just left.

Placing the box at the foot of his bed, Draco changed quickly into the old Slytherin pyjamas he had brought. They were basically just green pyjama pants with the Slytherin crest, and a light green t-shirt. He was sitting on his bed, gazing vacantly at the wall and considering calling a house elf to get some food when he heard the knock on the door.

He bounded up from his bed. Smoothing down his hair, he grabbed the doorknob and turned.

Hermione stood before him, her petite frame in his shadow. She was wearing Slytherin pyjamas just like him. They suited her. Since she was wearing an old pair of Draco's pyjamas, probably from around his third year, they were small enough to fit her. Draco found himself staring absent mindedly at her t-shirt. Since the shirt was for a guy, it was tighter in places than a female shirt would be. Draco let his wander across Hermione's form, before finally meeting her eye. A blush was creeping up her face, and she smiled embarrassedly. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yes, Hermione?" Draco asked, leaning against the door frame, not ashamed in the slightest.

"I'm kinda hungry," she said sheepishly. Draco smiled.

"Want to come to the kitchens with me?" he asked. She nodded eagerly. "Come on," he said, taking her hand and leading her down the corridors. She responded wordlessly and followed him. They went down many corridors without saying anything. As they went down a staircase, Hermione spoke.

"So this is really where you grew up?" she asked. Draco nodded. "That must have been amazing." He snorted at her words. She raised her eyebrow, silently asking for an explanation.

"I'll explain when we get to the kitchen," he said. It was a long story that he didn't really want to get into before he was fed. Hermione shrugged and they continued their journey.

After several more corridors, Draco looked around at his surrondings curiously. This didn't seem to be the path to the kitchens, he thought. He looked around to get their location, and suddenly screeched to a halt.

Hermione tripped forward when Draco had stopped. Draco reached forward and caught her. He pulled her into his arms protectively. He could feel his heart pounding as he looked at the large arched door before him. He had begun to shiver slightly. Hermione wriggled around his arm so that they were chest to chest. She looked at him, worry on her face.

"Draco? Are you alright? You look clammy." She reached up and put her hands on both of his cheeks. Draco barely nodded. He was full out trembling now, staring at the door in front of him.

"I took a wrong turn," he murmured, drawing Hermione closer. Who could blame him? The manor was huge. He still got lost in the vast mansion.

"Draco, what's wrong?" Hermione asked him straight. She looked at the door. "What's in there?"

Draco shivered. He hadn't entered this room in seven years. Hermione's screams rippled through his head once more.

"It's the drawing room."

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	19. Chapter 19

**Hey you guys! I hit 200 reviews last chapter! That's incredible. Keep 'em coming. I love you all.**

**Anyway, here we go, again.**

**Disclaimer: Nope**

Draco stared at the doorway looming before him. Ever since the war had ended, he hadn't set a foot in the drawing room. He had avoided it at all costs, taking elaborate routes to avoid being within five metres of the place.

It was the place of his nightmares. He had watched people get tortured there, even massacred. Sometimes he had participated. All the death eater meetings had taken place there. That room represented his deepest regrets and his deepest fears. Every night he found himself stuck in it, trapped as his nightmares raged on. He trembled as his nightmares flashed before his eyes, the screams of the tortured, the blood of the dying, and the bones of the dead. He pulled Hermione closer to him once more.

"Umm….Draco," she squeaked. "You're suffocating me." Draco let her go a bit, but still kept her close.

"I don't understand, Draco," she said, brushing a piece of hair out of her face. "What's wrong with the drawing room?"

Draco tried to speak, but couldn't. He stared in fear at the doorway. Hermione sighed.

"Draco, you're obviously scared of this room." He nodded. He was too frightened to hide behind his pride. She sighed and gently untangled herself from his arms. He stood petrified as she turned the doorknob. Looking him straight in the eye she said, "Best way to deal with a fear is to face it head on." She opened the door and headed inside. Draco's eyes widened.

"No, Hermione!" he shouted, and without stopping to consider the consequences, he rushed into the room after her.

The room was exactly as he remembered it. There were no windows, the darkness suffocated the room. Draco couldn't breathe. The entire room was black, not a speck of light anywhere. It was just a long, dark room, really. However, for Draco, the memories and screams flashed before his eyes and rang in his ears. He saw the Dark Lord's rage as he slaughtered helpless people. He saw his crazy aunt as she tortured Hermione, the brunette withering on the floor. He felt his own hand as he tortured people at Voldemort's request. He saw their blood spill to the ground. Draco sank to the ground, clutching his knees. He was hyperventilating now.

The memories were growing more vivid. All his senses were living the past of the drawing room. He heard the screams of the tortured in his ears, he felt his wand as he crucio-ed innocents. He looked up and saw another memory coming to life. He watched in horror as Bellatrix approached Hermione, her wand held high, a curse on her lips and pure crazy in her eyes. Hermione didn't even notice, she was still gazing around the room.

"HERMIONE!" Draco screamed. Without thinking he ran forward, getting in between his aunt and Hermione. Hermione's face was shocked as Draco threw his arms around her, protecting her from harm. He pulled her close to him, not caring about personal space. His aunt was still advancing on them. Draco trembled, but knew what he had to do. He picked Hermione up, the girl was so light, and sprinted from the room. He got out of the door, Hermione protesting slightly, but he ignored her. He put Hermione on the ground, the girl staggering slightly. He bolted the door, and slid down the wall to the ground, panting, trembling, and crying completely.

"Draco," Hermione whispered softly, kneeling next to him. She looked at him, and brushed a piece of hair out of his face. His skin tingled where her fingers had grazed his skin. Looking up at her, tears streaming down his face, he felt his heart swell. She was alright. He reached up and pulled her down onto his lap, hugging her close, one hand in her hair and one on her back. Hermione tentatively put her arms around his neck, and hugged him close as well. Draco let all of his shields down, and cried into her shoulder. She whispered comforting things into his ear and rubbed his back.

After several moments, Hermione pulled back a little bit. She looked him in the eye, concern covering her face. She moved her hands across his face, brushing his hair back behind his ears, stroking his cheek lightly, brushing away his tears and finally resting her hands on both of his cheeks.

"Are you alright?" she whispered. Draco looked her in the eyes, tears still sliding down his face. His eyes trailed over her face, warm and loving. No one had looked at him like this in a long time. He felt care and love radiating from her features, washing over him, warming his soul. He had never felt like this before.

"You're alright," he whispered, a smile spreading across his face. He pulled Hermione back into a hug, his head buried in her hair.

After several more moments of just holding her, Hermione pulled back once more. She slid out of his lap and stood up, reaching her hand down to pull him up. Once they were both standing, Hermione looked at him.

"Are you still hungry?" she asked. Draco shook his head. He had lost his appetite. "Me neither," she chuckled. "Shall we head back upstairs. Draco nodded. He took her hand and once more lead her through the winding halls of the manor. Once they had arrived at their rooms, Hermione turned to Draco.

"Draco," she started hesitantly. She took a deep breath and rallied on. "What happened back there…in the drawing room? Why did you grab me and carry me from the room? You looked as though I had been in immediate danger. What happened?"

Draco looked down at Hermione. She looked exceptionally concerned, as well as slightly curious. Draco couldn't tell her though. He just couldn't. But he needed to speak.

"Memories."

That was the only answer he gave. He smiled once more at her confused face. He leant over, brushed a piece of hair out of her face, and whispered in her ear. "Goodnight Hermione." He gave her a kiss on the cheek. Without seeing her reaction, he turned on his heel, and headed into his room, closing the door softly.

For a long time, Draco just sat at the end of his bed staring at the opposite wall. The memories he had been forced to relive were eating at his brain. He had managed after the war to ignore his past, and bury it all deep down. The only time he ever thought about his horrific past was during his nightmares, where he had no escape. Today, his nightmares had materialized. He had seen Bellatrix advance on Hermione as though she was really there. But she wasn't, Draco knew that. Bellatrix had been dead for years. There was no way she had really been there. She was just a figment of Draco's mind, playing on his fears and attacking him where it hurt. It had all been so realistic. His nightmares had come to light right before his eyes. He couldn't hide from his fears anymore. It wasn't possible. Hermione was right. He had to face his fears head on. He needed to….

Just then, a bloodcurdling scream rang through the air. Draco jumped up in fear, looking wildly around his room for the source. He paused, a realization coming to pass. He had heard that scream before. Another scream rang through the air, piercing his eardrums. His blood went cold. The scream was coming from Hermione's room. He practically ripped the door off the wall.

He burst into Hermione's room, searching for her. He quickly spotted her, and his heartbeat slowed down. She was lying in bed withering around, the blankets curled around her legs. Her eyes were closed, her face fearful, her body thrashing. She was having a nightmare.

Draco walked over to the bed, and sat down. He pulled Hermione's form towards him, shaking her slightly. "Shh, Hermione, wake up," he said soothingly. Hermione's eyes shot open, gasping and stuttering as she realized what was happening.

"Oh, Draco," she cried out, pulling him towards her and bursting into tears. Draco pulled her close and muttered soothing words in her ear as the brunette sobbed her heart out. After several minutes, she pulled back and looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy and her face tear streaked.

"It was terrible!" she choked out, a sob escaping once more.

"Shh, shh," he whispered, brushing her hair out of her face. "What happened?"

Hermione sobbed some more before responding. "It was your drawing room," she cried. Draco froze. No…...

"There was a lady, she looked like a crazy prostitute to be honest. She kept shouting at me, something about a sword, and pointing her magic wand at me, shouting words. It hurt so much Draco. She was torturing me! She wouldn't stop! I couldn't answer her…it was agony! And you," at this Hermione looked back up at him, her eyes wide and fearful. "You were there. You just stood there and let her hurt me. It hurt so much!" Hermione cried. Her body was suddenly racked with uncontrollable, heart breaking sobs. "It felt so real."

Draco was frozen. He couldn't believe it. She remembered that day. The day where she was captured. She remembered it completely. Every aspect, the sword, his crazy aunt, and him, how he just stood there and did nothing. She felt the pain. Draco realized ,with a start, that the screams had sounded so familiar because he had heard them. They were the screams that she had screamed while his aunt tortured her. They were the screams that haunted his nightmares, that rang through his head whenever he thought of the olden days. Hermione had just relived the entire experience, there was no question. She had just been tortured once more. Draco hung his head in shame. He hadn't been able to save her either time.

"It's alright Hermione," he said, pulling her close, letting her stain his shirt with her tears. "It's over."

She cried into his shirt for several more minutes. After she had let all of her tears out, she let Draco hold her close. Her breathing went back to normal, and her pulse slowed.

"Are you alright now?" Draco asked.

She nodded. "Thank you," she whispered.

Draco smiled, and was standing up to leave when he felt Hermione grab his hand and pull him back. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Could you stay?" she whispered, barely audible. Draco didn't even think. He sat back down on the bed, as Hermione scooted over. He brought his legs up, and slipped them under the covers. He was next to Hermione now. That wasn't enough for Draco though. He gently put his arms around Hermione and pulled her towards him, her head resting on his chest. She clutched his shirt and brought herself closer to him. "Thank you," she whispered. Draco didn't respond. He gently stroked her hair, soft and fluffy beneath his fingers. There was no response needed. They both soon fell asleep, content in each other's arms.

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	20. Chapter 20

**Hey everybody! I'm sorry this is late. **

**Ok. Time for an author's note. I'm not going to have access to my laptop for a couple of weeks, so to make up for it, I'll post a new chapter tomorrow, saturday as well. Then the next chapter will be in several weeks. Yay! Excitement.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own HP.**

The next morning, Draco woke up slowly, drifting lazily into the world of consciousness. He rolled over casually, but stopped almost immediately when he realized something was blocking the way. His eyes widened as he realized it was the one and only Hermione Granger that was preventing him from rolling on to his stomach. The memories of the night before came rushing back, all at once. The drawing room, his hallucination, her nightmare, and then finally the request to have him stay the night.

Hermione was still sleeping sounding, her face serene, her mouth open a tad, breathing deeply. Draco sat on the bed for several moments, slowly brushing her hair from her face. His fingers grazed her skin, which was as smooth as satin. He felt little tingles shoot up his fingertips every time he made contact. He was perfectly content, until his brain began to think.

Hermione remembered that day in the drawing room. She remembered every moment of it. But, since it was the only thing she remembered about that time period, she thought it was a just nightmare. She didn't know it had been one of the darkest days of her life. She didn't know who Bellatrix was. She didn't know this woman had tortured her, while her friends screamed from bellow. She didn't know that he had stood by and watched. She didn't know that he hadn't saved her.

How could he tell her it was a reality? It was a nightmare from the deepest pits of hell. How could she come to terms with it? He could barely face it in his life and he hadn't been the one withering around on the floor in pure agony. How could Hermione face that now? She wasn't the courageous Gryffindor she once was. Draco had realized that last night. He had never really thought about it before.

Hermione wasn't born strong, selfless and courageous. She probably was somewhat, but those attributes definitely weren't as prominent as they were when she disappeared. Her life in the magical world, her hardships, her friendship with Potter, the war, had shaped her just as it had shaped him. However, she hadn't become a coward with nightmares, living in a pool of his own sins. No, she had become glorious, strong, selfless, courageous, beautiful and completely incredible. Her time at Hogwarts had made her the person Draco remembered, admired, and secretly revered. That wasn't the girl sleeping next to him. This was what Hermione would've became had she been simply a muggle. The girl sleeping next to him was great, and he could recognize traits of Hermione in her. However, they were not as incredible as in magical Hermione.

In that moment, Draco admitted defeat. The battle that had been raging within him was finished; one side had finally conquered the other. Hermione needed to get her memories back, regardless of Draco's personal feelings towards her. She would probably hate him afterwards, but, oh well. Draco knew he needed to make this sacrifice for her. He needed to be selfless. She needed him to be selfless.

A little noise shook Draco from his thoughts. Hermione was stirring. Draco took a deep breath. This was going to be a strange day. That was already decided. She opened her eyes lazily, and gazed up at him, a look of contentment on her face.

"Morning," she smiled. Draco attempted to return the smile, but found he couldn't. He ended up demonstrating a grimace. Smooth.

"Morning," he replied, his voice sounded low and emotionless. Hermione looked startled. Chipper up, his subconscious shouted at him. He attempted to smile again, and Hermione's face relaxed.

"How're you feeling?" Draco asked, relieved to find his voice normal once more.

Hermione shrugged. "Better than last night," she chuckled at this. "Thanks for staying," she said, a light blush upon her cheeks.

Draco smiled. "I didn't really mind," he said coyly, and her blush increased. Why did he say that? He was just getting confused when Hermione's stomach rumbled. Draco snorted, "Come on, let's go get some food."

Hermione nodded and jumped from the bed. Draco took a moment just to capture her beauty. Green seriously suited her. How many times had he said that as of late? Her hair seemed to be perfect, cascading down her back in curls. Her eyes were bright and alive, her cheeks slightly flushed, and her smile wide and genuine. Draco was going to miss seeing her like this.

He led Hermione from the room and once more into the labyrinth known as the manor. Making sure that he was taking all the right turns, they arrived in the kitchen in five minutes. There were several house elves cooking already, and Narcissa was sitting at the kitchen table sipping on coffee and reading the paper. She looked up as they walked in. Her eyes twinkled as she looked over Hermione in the Slytherin pyjamas.

"Good morning Hermione, Draco," she said, smiling at each of them in turn.

"Good morning, Narcissa," Hermione replied, taking a seat at the table. Draco took the one next to her.

"Well, you two," Narcissa started, folding up the paper and shoving it towards them. "Your escape from the ministry made the paper."

"Of course it made the paper," Draco muttered, pulling the Daily Prophet towards him.

"Sorry, did I say made the paper?" Narcissa said, chuckling slightly. "It _is_ the paper."

Draco and Hermione both brought the paper towards them, reading the title simultaneously.

HERMIONE GRANGER RETURNS! Beneath those giant words, a picture of Hermione in Draco's arms seconds before they disaparated. Hermione's hair was in disarray from the mayhem but her face was glowing.

"Nice picture," Hermione snickered. They both began to read the article.

_The funeral of Hermione Granger took place yesterday. It was a beautiful ceremony, in a lovely clearing near the lake. There were speakers and chances for loved ones to mourn. Many would have thought that it would have finally given closer to the mysterious disappearance of Hermione Granger over seven years ago. _

_Little did everyone know, the entire case was about to be turned upside down._

_Harry Potter, the famous boy who lived, defeater of He who must not be named, and best friend to Ms. Granger, spoke at the funeral. His face shone with tears, his distress obvious on his face. He spoke of how he didn't want to have the funeral, because it meant it was real. Hermione Granger was really gone. He gave a beautiful speech,_ _stating he was never really going to give up on Hermione, even though they were holding the funeral. "You are a part of me 'Mione. And I'm not giving up on you, not now not ever. Because I know, you would never give up on me." Soon after the funeral finished, the boy who lived disappeared from the premises. _

_Ron Weasley, war hero and best friend to Hermione Granger and Harry Potter also spoke. He told everyone that he was in love with Granger, having become her paramour during the Battle of Hogwarts. This had been unknown information prior to the funeral. He spoke of how Hermione Granger had made him a better person, and would continue to do so, until the day he died. "I would give anything to have her back. Anything at all. It's been seven years, and I still love Hermione. She was a light in my darkness. She always knew what to do. Whenever I have a problem, I think, what would Hermione do? She leads me, even though she's long gone. Even though it's been years since I've seen her, she still helps me. She always will. She will always be there for me." Then, like Potter, he disappeared from the funeral soon after it had finished. _

_One other person spoke, Draco Malfoy. Many were shocked to see the Malfoy heir and Magical World's renowned bad boy" _Hermione snorted at this. "_take the podium. It was well known that he and Ms. Granger had been bitter enemies in their school days, as well as during the war. Malfoy spoke of how his dislike came from admiration of Ms. Granger, which no one had known before this proclamation. He spoke mainly of how amazing, in his eyes, Ms. Granger was. "As I see this beautiful service you all have concocted, I still don't think it does Hermione justice. It is beautiful, but not as much a Hermione was. I'll be honest, as surprising as the next statement will be, it's the truth. I miss Hermione. I miss the snobby bookworm who would yell at me when I interrupted her studying. I miss the girl who walked into the prefects carriage, glowing with pride at the achievement. I miss the strong woman who let herself be tortured instead of give in to the wishes of the dark side. I miss Hermione Granger." Soon after the funeral, Mr. Malfoy disappeared from the premises as well._

_There was a final disappearance from the funeral. Mrs. Ginny Potter, sister to Ron Weasley, wife to Harry Potter, war heroine and a very good friend to Hermione Granger. Mrs. Potter didn't speak at the funeral, though she could be seen crying softly in the front row. She disappeared from the funeral along with the speakers._

_Now, many people went looking for these four after they left. The wizarding world wondered where they had gone. Their friends and family wanted to give them comfort, the press wanted to get statements. However, they could not be found anywhere on the premises or the surrounding woods._

_The congregation at the funeral decided to head to the ministry of magic to see if they could find the four there. The funeral goers, along with many others, stood in the atrium, trying to spot the four, or receive news of where they had gone to. The ministry had been closed that day, given that Ms. Granger's funeral was happening. However, when you're the boy who lived, a war hero/heroine, and one of the biggest entrepreneurs in the world, you can avoid little obstacles such as the closure of the entire Ministry of Magic. _

_The large group, consisting of hundreds of people, stood in the atrium for approximately five minutes before the four made their appearance. However, now they were joined with one other. _

_Blaise Zabini, renowned auror and partner to Harry Potter stood with the group as they exited the elevators. Expressions of shock covered the five's faces. It was obvious that they were not expecting the group. Many reporters took this opportunity to ask questions._

_Bill Crocket, from the Daily Prophet, asked what motivated Mr. Potter to suddenly have the service for Ms. Granger given that she has been missing for years._

_Mr. Potter replied with, "Because I know Hermione Granger. She would not have wanted me to waste my life wasting after her. I love Hermione so much, and I will never truly let her go, but I suddenly realized that I had to start living again, because otherwise, Hermione would not stand for it."_

_Ella Vacon, from Witch Weekly, asked, if Mr. Potter was ever involved with Hermione Granger._

_Once the question was asked, Mr. Malfoy burst out into laughter. No one knows why this was so humorous to Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Potter shot him a not so subtle glare before responding._

"_No, Hermione and I were never involved. I loved Hermione as a sister and she felt the same about me. There was never a time where I considered another option, it was always simple with Hermione. She is my sister. Plain and simple."_

_Ferrara Eleanor, from International Wizarding Times asked when and why Mr. Malfoy's opinion of Ms. Granger changed, given that they were enemies in school._

_Mr. Malfoy responded in a soft voice. "My opinion of Hermione was always one of respect. I only noticed it though when I stopped being such a moron." The man is known for his blunt humour. _

_Suddenly, a cold gust of wind burst through the atrium. Everyone felt it, and many people looked around for the source. What everyone discovered, at the front, was surprising, to say the very, very least. Hermione Granger, war heroine, best friend to Harry Potter, paramour to Ron Weasley, the brightest witch of her age, had suddenly appeared standing next to Mr. Malfoy._

_This was no illusion. This was no ghost. It was Hermione Granger, exactly as the world remembered her, though she had obviously aged seven years. Her hair was curled around her face, framing it nicely. Her big brown eyes were slightly fearful. She turned to Mr. Malfoy, and the two exchanged a subtle fearful look. _

_The room exploded, many rushed forward in excitement. Mr. Potter rushed in front of Ms. Granger, trying to stop her from being mobbed. Ms. Granger kept her eyes on Mr. Malfoy though. Without questioning, Mr. Malfoy brought Hermione into a tight embrace, and whispered something unknown into Mrs. Potter's ear, who was also shielding the couple from the crowd. With their arms wrapped around each other, Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger disaparated, disappearing to an unknown location._

_Mr. Potter refused to answer any questions. The four people remaining all disaparated as well, without giving any information regarding Hermione Granger's sudden reappearance. The atrium of the Ministry was in disarray and confusion. The Daily Prophet managed to catch up with some of Ms. Granger's old friends however._

_Seamus Finnigan, _(Draco groaned at this point) _an old Gryffindor classmate of Ms. Granger and a current employee of Mr. Malfoy stated, "I did not know anything about Hermione's reappearance. Mr. Malfoy has been out of the country for several weeks now. I did not even know he was back until he spoke at the funeral." _

_Professor Minerva Mcgonagall, headmistress at Hogwarts said, "I never believed Hermione was gone. She is a bright and intelligent woman. There has never been a situation she could not handle."_

_Luna Lovegood, war heroine and old classmate of Ms. Granger stated "the nargles must have been behind it."_

_Neville Longbottom, war hero, old classmate and Witch Weekly's most eligible bachelor said "It's Hermione freaking Granger. She would never go down without a fight. And if you were in a fight with Hermione Granger, you'd be the one going down."_

_The entire situation is a mystery. No one knows the answers, and there are many questions left. Where are Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy now? Did Mr. Potter know Ms. Granger was alive? Did Mr. Malfoy find Ms. Granger while he was out of the country? Why'd she disappear? Why didn't she return? And what exactly is a nargle? The Daily Prophet will hopefully have the answers soon._

That article took up several pages. But there was more.

Pg. 4 Hermione Granger's past

Pg. 6 Hermione's time at Hogwarts

Pg. 10 Hermione in the war

Pg. 15 Hermione's disappearance

Pg. 20 the full speeches from the funeral, given by Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Malfoy

Draco put the paper down. He turned to Hermione.

"The secrets are out now."

Hermione shrugged. "At least they didn't find us." Draco nodded, slightly reassured.

Hermione took the paper. "I'm going to read about my life," she said soundly. "This ought to be entertaining."

Draco shrugged and allowed her to read. He sipped on the coffee one of his house elves had given him. He ate the breakfast he had just received. He felt very relaxed, until a sudden noise took away his Zen.

Hermione had been sipping on coffee as well, but had just spat it all out. Sputtering, she turned to Draco.

"Hermione?" he asked worriedly.

"I dated an international sports legend?" she gasped out. Draco chuckled, his worry disappearing.

"His name was Victor Krum. One of the best Quidditch players in the world."

Hermione smirked slightly and muttered, "Good on you, Hermione." Draco snorted at this, though he felt jealous for a split second.

Hermione read for several more minutes. Narcissa was simply watching her from across the table, sipping her coffee slowly. Draco just ate. Yesterday had been exhausting. He was famished.

After he was done eating, he sat there just watching her. She was still reading, now many pages into the articles of her life. Her eyes were racing over the page quickly. Suddenly, her eyes stopped. She seemed to be rereading a section. Her face went ashen. Her eyes widened, and a combination of anger and fear came across her features.

"Hermione?" Draco asked tentatively. What had she read?

She wouldn't look at him. She ripped a page out of the newspaper and threw it at him. Draco picked it up hesitantly.

It was a piece about Hermione's involvement in the war. Draco read the first few lines.

_Though the exact details are unknown, it is known that Hermione Granger, along with Ron Weasley and Harry Potter were captured and brought to Malfoy Manor. Ms. Granger was tortured for information by the infamous death eater Bellatrix Lestrange, pictured below._

A picture of Bellatrix snarling took over the rest of the page.

Draco put the paper down slowly, his fingers trembling. She knew. She knew it was real. She knew that she had been tortured on the drawing room floor. She knew that her nightmare had really taken place. And worst of all, she knew that he had just stood there, not helping as she screamed in agony. She now knew who he had once been.

"Hermione," Draco started, regret in his voice. Narcissa was watching their exchange curiously. Hermione looked up and met his eyes, hers angry.

"You knew it was real, didn't you?" she asked, malice in her voice.

Draco nodded, seeing no other option. Hermione glared and stood up from the table, turned on her heel and rushed out of the kitchen. Draco raced after her.

She was running down the halls. Draco ran after her, calling out her name. Eventually, he was able to catch up with her. Quidditch training. He grabbed her arm, and spun her around, forcing Hermione to face him.

Her face was bright red in anger, with several tear marks streaking down it. Her hair seemed to be cackling with electricity. She was downright frightening.

"It was real?" she spat. Draco nodded once more. Hermione glared at him, more tears forming in her eyes.

"I really was tortured," she said, more to herself, not looking to him for confirmation. "And you just stood there." Oh shit. She glared at him, her face reddening even more. "Why did you just stand there?" she screamed.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, not even knowing what to say, but Hermione cut across him.

"I mean, you said we didn't get along," she babbled. "But never would I have imagined you would have just stood by, while I was screaming at the top of my lungs, right before your eyes. Why the hell would you do that? Why would anyone do that? Who would do that? You would have to be truly evil…." Suddenly, her eyes widened, and her face went slightly ashen.

"You're one of them," she whispered. She seemed to have come to a realisation. She was shivering now. She looked him in the eye. "You're one of Voldemort followers." She must have remembered him from Potter's lecture on her life.

Draco couldn't hide it. The guilt must have filled his face. He didn't need to confirm it.

Hermione backed up several feet. She was fully trembling now. "You're evil."

"Not anymore," Draco said, stepping forward.

"Not anymore?" Hermione exploded. "That's not bloody good enough! You tortured people! You might have even killed people!"

Another look of guilt flashed across his face. Her eyes widened even more.

"You did! No wonder Ron and Harry can't stand you! No wonder you used to hate me! What is this to you? What is this relati….friendship to you!" She stuttered slightly there. Draco barely noticed. He was now cowering beneath Hermione's exploding rage.

"Is it a joke? Is everything you've told me a lie? Why did you ever help me, you, you, death eater!" She finished with a flourish, tears now streaming across her face. She did nothing to subside them.

Draco opened his mouth, but no words would come out. He knew she'd end up hating him, that was inevitable, but it surprised him how much it hurt. It was as if his heart had been ripped out and trampled on. He could feel tears coming as well. He did his best to stop them. Luckily, a distraction came right then.

A white light appeared at the end of the hall, slowly moving towards them. Draco didn't flinch, like Hermione did. He knew what this was.

The patronus came to a halt before him, the stag's antlers glistening silver. This was Potter's patronus. The boy wonder's voice rang through the corridor.

"Good morning," it said. "Malfoy, bring Hermione to Kingsley's office. He's ordered a meeting. Do this now. Please. And, Hermione, just go with Malfoy, even though you're probably pissed at him, for some reason. You know, because it's Malfoy. See you in a few."

Draco snorted. Potter had such faith in him. He turned to Hermione, slowly, dreading their interaction. She had her arms crossed and wouldn't meet his eyes.

"We've got to go," he said softly. She nodded curtly. "I need your arm." She let him grab her arm wordlessly. He turned towards her, and he finally met her eyes. It felt as though a knife went through his heart.

They were cold, emotionless. There was no anger or hatred, but no love or kindness either. They were dead. It was as if he didn't even exist. Hermione didn't feel anything for him. Not anymore. He felt empty, he had never truly felt this way before. Swallowing dryly, he felt his tears began to fall. Hermione's expression didn't change. Blinking them back, Draco took her arm, probably for the last time, and apparated them away.

**Review you guys, and I'll see you tomorrow :)**


	21. Chapter 21

**Here we go. See you guys tomorrow as well. I'm correcting tomorrow's chapter right now. Then a break for a few weeks.**

**You guys are great.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own HP**

Draco and Hermione landed in Kingsley's office, stumbling slightly. Hermione immediately pulled her arm out of his grasp. She walked to the opposite side of the office, and leaned against a wall, avoiding his eyes. Draco let his eyes fall to the ground, trying to crush his emotions into the ground. He wouldn't let Potter see them.

"Malfoy," Potter greeted, forcing Malfoy to meet his eyes. The boy who lived was leaning on a desk at the front. He gave a curt nod, and let his eyes wander away, looking over the room.

They were all in Kingsley Shaklebolt's office. The minister of magic's office was much larger than Blaise's. It was a large office in comparison to anyone's office. One of the four walls, the wall behind the desk was purely windows, showing the muggle square below. The rest of the walls were covered in bookshelves, a collection almost as diverse as the Hogwarts Library. There was only one section not covered by books. There were giant doors opposite the windows. The doors of the archway were made of solid gold. Sketched in were the names of all the previous ministers. Draco could see the names Cornelius Fudge and Rufus Scrimgeour cut into the gold. Those doors were legend, a legacy in the wizarding world. They represent piece and sincerity, and the unified magical community. Draco knew for a fact that while Voldemort had taken over the ministry, the doors had been covered. The dark Lord had been unable to take the doors away, the magical protection of them was too strong. Draco's eyes wandered to the archway, reading the sketched in words. _Fortius est vinculum magicas magicis unum aliquid affert_. That was latin for "the only thing stronger than magic, is the bond magic gives us."

"Where are we?" Hermione asked, as Draco turned back towards her. Hermione's eyes were wandering over the books, widening in awe. She stepped forward and ran her hand over the spin of "The Latest Advancements in Wizardry." A low chuckle sounded from behind her.

"Hermione always goes straight to the books," came the calming voice of Kingsley Shaklebolt. The minister for magic walked in through the golden doors, closing them quickly behind them. Hermione turned to the auror, staring at him. The minister walked up and looked her over, happiness evident on his face.

"Welcome back, Hermione," he said solemnly.

Potter took this opportunity to butt in. "Kingsley, she has no idea who you are."

"I know," he replied, looking slightly crestfallen. "I still needed to say it."

"Excuse me, sir?" Hermione asked. "Who are you?"

"Kinglsey Shaklebolt, minister for magic," he said, bowing slightly. "It's excellent to see you again, Hermione."

Hermione looked stricken. "I know the minister for magic?"

Kingsley nodded. "We fought together in the war, and were good friends before you disappeared."

"Anyway, Hermione," Potter started. "Do you know why you're here?"

"No, you're magical wispy smoke deer thing wasn't very specific."

Kingsley turned to Harry. The minister for magic was biting back a chuckle. "Magical wispy smoke deer thing?"

"She means my patronus," said Potter, looking amused himself at Hermione's view on magic.

"What's a patronus?" Hermione asked, interested.

"It's a type of defence…." Draco tried to explain, but Hermione cut him off.

"I believe I asked Harry, Malfoy," she snapped. Draco's heart turned to ice at the renewed used of his last name.

Potter looked over the pair curiously. "What happened between the two of you?"

Hermione sent him a glare. Potter visibly gulped.

"Malfoy held back some information regarding my past," she said, her voice low and dangerous. Draco thought she was going to explode again.

"What information?" Potter asked, worry covering his features now.

"A memory," she said softly, averting her eyes to the floor.

"A memory?!" Potter stuttered. His eyes bulged out. The boy wonder looked shocked for a moment, before turning to Draco.

"She remember something?" Draco nodded slowly. Potter started to turn red. "She remembered something and you didn't tell me immediately?" Draco nodded once more.

Potter huffed and started muttering under his breath. He ran a hand through his forever tangled hair. He turned back to Draco.

"Malfoy, I understand that a lot has changed since our school days. I understand that you're not as much as a stuck up, heartless, moronic evil git as you used to be. I understand that we sometimes engage in awkward yet somewhat polite conversations. I understand all that." Potter took a deep breath, seemingly calming himself. He didn't succeed.

Instead, he exploded.

"I don't understand this! I don't understand why you didn't bring Hermione back immediately! I don't understand why you act like you care what happens to her! I don't understand why you didn't tell me the second her memory came back! That's what we want, isn't it? Or are you so heartless that you don't care about giving her life back to her? Do you just want to throw your friendship in her real friends' faces? What do you want?"

The chosen one huffed once more. His face was bright red after his rant. He was angrier than Draco had seen him in years. But Draco decided to answer his question.

"I didn't want her to remember," he said clearly.

The idea that looks could kill crossed Draco's mind. Potter looked murderous.

"THEN WHY DO YOU BRING HER BACK?!" he screamed. Everyone in the room flinched at this. Draco snuck a glance at Hermione. She met his gaze.

Her eyes weren't angry. They were pleading. They were confused. They were hurt. Tears were trailing down her face. Draco's heart fell as he watched a tear fall to the floor. He turned back to Potter and responded as calmly as possible.

"I didn't want to bring her back at first," he said, now avoiding Hermione's eyes. "When I was in Canada, Hermione was my only source of comfort. Our friendship was easy, caring, and perfect. She was there whenever I needed her, and vice versa. I've never had that before. I didn't want to give that up. But I couldn't be selfish with her. I care about her too much. She deserved her real life, full of amazing people who love her. I couldn't deprive her of that because of how I felt. So I brought her back."

Everyone in the room was frozen. Draco shot one more glance at Hermione. Her eyes were wide, but at least she had stopped crying. Draco continued.

"I don't want her to remember because I don't want for her to hate me. I couldn't bear it. And I know she will. But I thought I had more time. More time to be with Hermione before she hated me again. But the memory last night cut that short."

Potter seemed completely dumbfounded, but managed to ask, "What was the memory?"

Draco couldn't look at anyone. He addressed his shoes as he said, "the day at Malfoy Manor."

A soft oh escaped the boy who lived's lips. Draco looked up slowly. Potter no longer looked angry. He wasn't even looking at Draco. He was looking at Hermione.

She was clutching her body, with tears trailing down her face. Her gaze was averted to the floor. She was shivering slightly.

Potter walked over to his best friend and reached out a hand, seeming to comfort her, but she pulled away. She locked her shoulders in a defensive manner and glared at the boy who lived.

"How do you not care he's evil?" she said, slightly maliciously.

Potter turned back to Draco. "Malfoy?" he asked. She gave a curt nod. "He's not evil."

Draco smirked slightly. It turns out his strange relationship with Potter actually had changed the boy who lived perspective of him.

Hermione wasn't at all pleased with that response. "He worked with Voldemort!"

Potter nodded. "Yes, true. Draco's an egotistical, bigoted, idiotic, demeaning, degrading bastard. But he's not evil."

Hermione gawked. "Is there a difference?"

"A very large one," drawled the low voice of Kinglsey. Draco had almost forgotten he was in the room.

Hermione was fuming, but Kingsley didn't seem to care. "Hermione, I know you're upset, but right now, we need to talk about this memory."

Hermione took a deep breath and nodded. "Alright," Kingsley stated. The wizard walked over to where Hermione was standing and lead her to a chair in front of the desk. Potter conjured himself a chair and sat. Draco followed suit.

Kingsley sat at his desk for several moments before turning to Hermione. "Could you tell us about the memory?"

She huffed and proceeded. "Yesterday, Dra….Malfoy and I decided to get some food, so we went to the kitchen. On the way, we took some wrong turns and ended up at the drawing room."

At this, Draco saw Potter visibly stiffen.

"Malfoy was freaking out. He seemed terrified of this place," Hermione continued. "So I went into the room. I always try and face a fear head on. When I got in, Draco started screaming. I thought he was crazy. He grabbed me and rushed out of the room. He fell to the floor crying."

The other two men in the room eyed Draco. "I had visions of my aunt," he explained. They nodded: no further explanation was required.

Hermione was steadily avoiding his eyes. She was staring at the chipped corner of Kinglsey's wooden desk.

"Hermione?" Kingsley pushed. "We need to know the rest of the story."

She nodded curtly and continued. "We went back upstairs and I asked him what had happened. He said memories. Then he…..left. I went to bed, and fell asleep easily. But then the nightmare started."

Hermione cut off suddenly. Draco looked over in concern. She had broken down. Her head was in her hands, and she was bawling. Draco looked to Potter for an idea of how to proceed. But when he caught look of the boy who lived's face, he lost that thought.

The word agony didn't seem to suffice. Maybe unending, eternal, tormenting agony might suffice. The chosen one was hurting terribly from watching Hermione tears. His eyes were burning as if he was suffering under the weight of one thousand cruciatus curses. Potter was obviously in such pain from seeing Hermione in pain. Draco knew why. The martyr forever.

"Potter," Draco said slowly, unsure of how to proceed. That was becoming his life mantra. "It's not your fault."

"Goddamn it Malfoy!" He shouted, jumping up from his recently conjured chair. "You don't know anything! Of course it's my fault!"

Kingsley stood up and walked over to Potter. The minister seemed to be trying to calm him down. The minister was failing. Potter started yelling again.

"Hermione is my best friend, and I love her so much. I have never been able to protect her! At the manor, I was stuck in the basement as I heard her scream. Seven years ago, I was too busy rejoicing to think about maybe, not everyone would be happy about Voldemort falling."

The saviour took a breath, which allowed Draco to interrupt.

"You aren't a seer Potter, you can't predict everything. How were you supposed to know? Bad things happen. No one can stop them. But everyone can move on from them."

"Do you even know how she disappeared?" Potter blurted out.

Draco was taken aback. "She was kidnapped, wasn't she?"

"Yes, but beyond that."

Draco thought for a moment, and shook his head. He didn't know any real specifics about the case. He had asked Blaise, but the auror always gave very vague answers. Draco thought that they just didn't know that much.

"The night she disappeared," Potter sighed, slumping back down onto his chair. "She came over to my house."

Draco leaned forward. Hermione had been at Potter's house that night?

"Before the war, Hermione had taken away her parents memories, and sent them to Australia to be safe from the war. That's what she told us. And it's true. But she left out one detail. She left an Australian witch to watch over them, just in case."

Draco hadn't known this, but wasn't necessarily surprised. Hermione was one to always have a back-up plan.

"The night she disappeared, she got a letter from this witch, telling her that her parents had been killed in a car crash."

Draco's jaw dropped. Hermione's parents were dead?

"They were killed by a drunk driver. No magic involved. Just a normal, muggle death. That's what this witch told her."

Potter took a moment to collect himself. "The night she disappeared, she came to the house I was staying at, bawling her eyes out. She was grief-stricken. When she came through the floo-network, she didn't know I had company at the time."

Draco raised an eyebrow. Something in Potter's tone had changed.

"Who was there?" he asked. Potter sighed in defeat.

"Ron."

"So?" Draco said, a bit of spite in his voice. Hermione and Ron were involved at the time. Why should that matter?

Potter avoided his eyes. "Ron and I were arguing, and then Hermione walked in, tears running down her face, and Ron exploded."

Draco fought between the urge to roll his eyes and punch the wall. He ended up just responding.

"His girlfriend walks in crying, and he yells at her?" he asked disbelievingly.

"They weren't really…..ummmm, anyway," Potter stuttered, trying to change the subject, but Draco caught on.

"What?" Draco asked, even more disbelief in his voice. "They weren't together?"

Potter closed his eyes, and shook his head. Draco's jaw dropped. Now he was stuttering.

"But….Weasel was like….talking about being together…..funeral…speech…."

Potter rolled his eyes. "Ron has always been one to…...exaggerate the truth."

Draco nodded, trying to hide the tap dance his heart was now doing.

"Anyway, back to the original question, he yelled at her?" Draco asked, thirsting for the answer. He noticed Hermione and Kinglsey were clinging onto every word as well.

"Yes, he yelled at her," Potter said tightly. "It made sense in context, kind of."

"What was the context?"

"Unimportant," Potter said, dismissing it. Draco noted he dismissed it nervously. There was more to that story.

"So what happened?"

"Hermione broke down even more, and Ron just left." Potter began twitching very nervously. "She came over to me and told me everything, and I…yelled at her."

Before anyone realized what was happening, Potter was on the ground, sporting a brilliant bloody nose. Draco was standing above him, white hot rage covering his features.

"You yelled at her?" Draco asked murderously. "After her parents had died, and she came to you crying, you fucking yelled at her?"

"It made sense in context," Potter replied weakly, raising his arms to defend his face.

"I don't give a damn about context!" Draco yelled. "You were her best friend! Not even I would have done that, and she hated me back then!"

Draco rose his arm once more, but before he could sock the git in the face, he found himself flying through the room, hitting the opposite wall. He crashed into a bookshelf, and fell to the floor, wincing.

Kingsley was pointing his wand at Draco. The minister of magic walked up to Potter and helped him stand back up. He pointed his wand at Potter's bloody nose, and muttered, "episky." Potter's nose healed itself.

Draco got to his feet. He walked back over to where the other three were.

"Harry," Kingsley stated. "Finish the story. No violence, Draco."

The blonde nodded curtly and turned to glare at the boy who lived.

Potter gingerly touched his nose, and winced slightly. He sighed and lowered his hand. He leant against the desk and stared at the floor before continuing the story.

"I yelled at her, but like I said, it made sense in context. It still wasn't good, but, I can't take it back now. Hermione just stared at me blankly. She had gone completely white. She turned and stormed out of the door. That was the last time I ever saw her. The next day, Arthur Weasley came over and told me what happened. I wanted to be in charge of the case for the auror department, but I was too young."

Draco interrupted. "But Blaise runs it now, and he started the same time as you. Why does he have it?"

Potter glared at a spot on the floor. "Because of my argument with Hermione, I was considered a witness and suspect for a little bit."

"You were considered a suspect?" Draco asked, shocked.

He nodded. "Only for a little while. Because of my direct involvement with the case, I wasn't allowed to take it over. So they gave it to Blaise. They were doing as a favour to me, I'm friends with Blaise so I could know exactly what was going on. There are perks that come with being the chosen one."

Draco processed this for a moment.

"What did older Weasel tell you?"

Potter shot a glance at Hermione before continuing. "He came to my house in the morning. I was exceptionally hung-over, so I was exceptionally grumpy when Arthur came running in."

"Why were you hung-over?" Draco asked.

Potter gave him a look of disdain. "Because I drank too much, moron."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Why did you drink too much?"

Potter avoided his eyes. "None of your business," he snapped. "Anyway, Arthur came in. His face was completely white. I asked him what was wrong, and he demanded when the last time I had seen Hermione was. I told him vaguely of our fight the night prior. He told me that Hermione was missing."

Potter closed his eyes. "Apparently, that night, she ended up in Hogsmeade. She had been staying at Hogwarts to help with the clean-up. She apparently ran into the Three Broomsticks crying, and demanded firewhiskey. The way Madame Rosmerta tells it, she drank nearly the entire bottle. She ended up stumbling out the door about an hour afterwards. That was the last time anyone ever saw her."

"What did you say to her?" Draco demanded.

"It's not important," Potter dismissed. He motioned to Hermione. "Wasn't Hermione telling us about her memory returning?"

Kingsley nodded. He looked to Hermione, urging her to continue the story she was giving a few minutes prior. Draco wasn't really paying attention.

He was watching Potter. There was more to this story, Draco just knew it. Potter's tone had been different. There had been something strange about the entire situation. Potter would never yell at Hermione. He only knew them to be in a fight once, way back in third year. Weasel and Potter had ganged up on her for something, he couldn't remember. What had happened that night?

What was the bloody context?

Hermione leant back in her chair. Her tears had dried, and she seemed much calmer than when she had tried telling the story the first time. She ran a hand through her tangled hair and began speaking once more.

"The memory, I guess, came back to me as a nightmare. I thought it was only a nightmare. I was in the drawing room of the manor. I was on the floor as this woman stood in front of me. She kept on pointing her wand at me and saying things. It hurt so much. The thing that stood out for me was a face in the background. Draco was there."

Hermione shot him a look. Their eyes made contact for the briefest second before hers were directed at the floor once more.

"I was screaming, and he just stood there, watching me. That hurt more than the actual physical torture. Just having him do nothing to help me, was painful. The bitch hit me with another curse, I guess, when I woke up."

From there, a faint blush rose onto Hermione's features. She gave him a covert glance. She gave him a covert look that Potter caught. The boy who lived raised his eyebrow at Draco.

"I heard her screaming," he stated simply. "So I went and woke her up. She was really scared and freaked out."

"And?" Potter pressed on.

Draco felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny. "She told me what the nightmare was about. I knew immediately. But I couldn't tell her it was real because of how scared she was. So I just calmed her down."

Draco suddenly realized why Hermione was blushing. Oh shit, he thought. He could feel his cheeks starting to heat a bit. Nonononono…

Potter noticed. "And Draco?"

He avoided everyone's eyes. "She asked me to stay with her."

"In the room?" Potter asked dumbly.

"Not necessarily….." he said vaguely, when he heard a voice.

"In her bed," the voice said angrily. Draco turned to the door.

Fucking Weasel.

**Review**


	22. Chapter 22

**Well here we are. I won't be posting for a few weeks, but I promise I'll post a soon as possible. Here's the last chapter for now. Thank you for all the support.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP**

Goddamn you Weasel, Draco thought. Seriously, of all the moments for you to walk in, did it have to be right now?

The Weasel stormed into the room, and let his anger out immediately.

"How dare you Malfoy!" he roared. Draco barely flinched. He was very used to the Weasel yelling at him.

"What did I do this time?" he asked casually. The weasel seemed to inflate with even more rage.

"How dare you take advantage of Hermione!" Draco felt his eyes pop out.

"Take advantage of her?" he stuttered. "I didn't take advantage of her!"

"You slept in her bed! You aren't denying it." Draco shook his head.

"Yes, I slept in her bed, but that doesn't mean I banged her. There's a difference. Learn it."

"And even if he did sleep with her," Potter cut in. "It would be none of your business. You and Hermione ended a long time ago, as you are very much aware."

The world must have ended. Draco had to pinch himself. Something was wrong. Maybe the planets had aligned, or they were messed up in time, or maybe even apocalypse now. All he knew, was something was wrong. Potter had just defended him, when weasel had attacked. What the hell? Merlin, he might as well just fall asleep. His dreams were more realistic than this.

Weasel gaped. "We didn't really end. She was just confused, it had been a long year, and she just needed a bit of space…."

Potter snorted. "No, that's not what happened, and you need to accept it. Hermione didn't want to be with you. That's all."

Weasel's eyes narrowed. "Of course Potter, you'd be fighting with me about this again."

Draco's eyebrows raised. Again?

Kingsley cut into the argument. "If the two of you want to argue like normal, could you wait until after Hermione finishes her story."

The two Gryffindors nodded. The weasel walked to the opposite end of the room as Potter. Now, Potter was sitting next to Hermione and Draco was leaning on the desk.

Hermione looked down and continued the story. "So I was really freaked out, and Draco came over and woke me up. He calmed me down. I asked him to stay with me for the night, and he did. I didn't have the nightmare again."

Weasley started muttering obscenities. Kingsley shot him a glare before urging Hermione to continue.

"Anyway, when Draco and I woke up, we headed downstairs for breakfast. When we got there, Narcissa handed us the paper, which was basically about me. I wanted to know what my real life was. So I read it. There was a section about my life during this war you guys keep mentioning. The paper told me that once I was apparently captured and tortured at Malfoy Manor."

Hermione shivered. "It was real. This terrible nightmare was real. I ran out of the kitchen and Draco followed. I confronted him, and he told me everything. That's when your magical mist animal arrived."

Kingsley nodded. "Before this, had you ever had any nightmares like this, or random flashes?"

Hermione shook her head. "No….well…once."

"Once?" Potter questioned.

"It was a few weeks ago," she muttered, avoiding Draco's eyes.

"What happened?" Draco asked.

She finally turned to look at him. "It was at the gala. When we were talking about that girl, and you said she'd probably forgotten you. I had a weird vision pop through my head. The vision was me punching you in the face."

Draco nodded, chuckling slightly. "I remember that. I thought I saw recognition in your eyes. And yes, that really did happen."

Potter leaned forward. "What girl were you talking about?"

Draco froze.

Hermione didn't notice. "We were talking about Draco's school days, and how he was always second in his class. He said this one girl would always beat him. After a brief description of this girl, I realized Draco most likely had been in love with her, but wouldn't admit it."

If hell wanted to swallow him up, now would be the perfect time.

The three men turned and looked at him.

"Were you?" Potter asked calmly, while the Weasel looked ready to explode.

"No!" Draco argued. "I was not in love with her."

"Who was she anyway?" Hermione asked.

Anytime hell.

Weasel gave her a look of complete disdain. "It was you."

The longest moment in Draco's life prior to this had been the moment when Potter had shot the final spell at the Dark Lord to end the war. But that felt like a second long compared to the time it took Hermione to turn her head and look him in the eye. Draco felt as though his feet had been glued to the floor. He couldn't look away. He was forced to stare deep into her eyes as she realized truth. He could practically see the conversation replaying in her mind. Everything he had said, how strong she was, how beautiful, Hermione now knew to be about her.

From the moment they became friends, Draco had felt as though their friendship was the easiest thing he had ever done. Everything was simple with Hermione. They just clicked. Even though she was currently angry at him, he still recognized simplicity in their relationship. Now, Draco realized, with his heart pounding, everything was about to change.

Who was he kidding? Their relationship had never been simple. Conversing with her, being with her, that was simple. But the relationship consisted of more than simply that. Beneath the friendly conversation and everyday hangouts was something else. Something was brewing, something deep, something complicated. Something that was going to forever change their lives.

Draco had been able to ignore it beforehand. He could always live in the simplicity, and ignore that other something that would change everything. But the wall separating the two had been torn down. It had been torn down the second he had met Hermione's eyes. It was time to face it. There was no way out. Draco took a deep breath, and prepared himself for the unknown waters ahead.

Hermione was gaping. "It was me?" she asked, in a hushed whisper. Draco didn't know why she needed confirmation; the look on his face should have been enough. Any who, he gave her a quick nod, his eyes not leaving her face.

"I was the one who beat you in every class?" Another quick nod. "The compassionate one?" Nod. "The strongest person you'd ever known?" Another nod.

Hermione, without warning, stood up. She walked over to Draco, who was feeling very apprehensive. Hermione looked at him, and threw her arms around him, wrapping him in a hug. Draco, ignoring his shock, immediately returned the hug.

Hermione pulled away from him a bit, looking up at him with tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," she said quietly.

Draco gave a half-smile. "I'm sorry I gave you a reason to."

Kingsley coughed discretly. Draco got the message, and brought Hermione back to her chair. He sat her down, and stood behind her.

Kingsley studied the two of carefully for several moments. When Draco became uncomfortable under his scrutiny, he spoke.

"Our first priority in this situation is to retrieve Hermione's memory. Given what you two have told me about Hermione's few memories that have returned, I'd guess our best chance at full memory restoration is stimulation."

Potter pushed his glasses up his nose. "Stimulation?"

Kinglsey gave a brief nod. "Yes. This hardly ever happens, but sometimes, with memory charms, slimulation can reverse the effects. I've heard of this happening twice in my lifetime. We need to try and remind her of her life by showing her things that magical Hermione knew very well."

"But Kinglsey," Weasel argued. "She didn't remember anything when she sees me! And I dated her!"

Potter muttered something incomprehensible. Draco shot him a look. What was going on with the boy wonder and Weasel?

Kinglsey rolled his eyes at Weasel's statement. "I apologize Ron, but I feel like that's not enough. These need to be life-changing things that we show her. The drawing room at Malfoy Manor changed her life spectacularily. We need something else like that, something without which, Hermione's life would never be the same."

Draco looked up. Life changing…

He met Potter's eyes, which were alit with a bright fire. They gave each other a quick nod. It was obvious they were both thinking the same thing. They both only knew of one place that had changed, not only Hermione's life, but the lives of everyone in the room.

"Hogwarts," they said in unison.

Kinglsey regarded the two of them. He nodded slowly. "I could not think of a more life-changing experience than walking into that school for the very first time. You two agree?"

Draco nodded. He was in complete agreement. He remembered the first time he'd walked through those large doors. Coming from a rich household, Draco had been no stranger to extravagance, and Hogwarts was extravagant, no question. But there was something Hogwarts offered him that Malfoy Manor had always come up short on.

Hogwarts was home.

Draco knew he wasn't the only one to experience the feeling of belonging on arriving at the castle. When he had walked into the great hall, he had seen it on all the faces, even the teachers. Everyone belonged. Whether you be a Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, or a Ravenclaw, or even a faculty member, Hogwarts was your home. If that feeling wasn't enough to jog Hermione's memory, they might as well jump ship then and there.

Potter spoke again. "So should one of us bring Hermione over?"

Weasel inched closer to the sitting brunette.

Kingsley noticed. "Draco can do it. She'd be the most comfortable with you, I assume."

Hermione looked up at him, and gave him a smile. It warmed Draco's heart. The twenty minutes they'd been fighting had been the worst twenty minutes Draco had experienced within the last seven years.

Weasel looked very disgruntled with this arrangement. Draco smirked. Screwing with muggle ginger had been fun, but it was nothing compared to the real thing.

Surprisingly, Potter also looked very annoyed with this. He eyed Hermione with a strange emotion in his eye. Draco couldn't recognize it. It definitely wasn't something Draco had seen in Potter's eyes before.

Draco turned back to Kingsley. "Perfect. We can do that tomorrow."

Kingsley assented, when Potter interrupted.

"Shouldn't we be trying to find the bastards who did to her?"

Kingsley looked. "I've been considering that. I'm not sure that we can."

Draco jumped up. "What do you mean you can't?"

Kingsley eyed him. The minister for magic proceeded calmly. "We can assume that whoever did this was a death eater."

Draco nodded, not understanding what the minister was saying.

"Well, all the death eaters were either killed in the war or captured in the weeks afterwards. There was not a single known death eater who escaped. We got them all."

"Wouldn't that make it easier to catch them?" The minister was making no sense at all.

Kingsley shook his head. "The criminal is either dead, or has been locked in Azkaban for years. Why would they confess to something else? It wouldn't change their sentence. It would only gain our hatred."

Draco opened his mouth to argue, but found he couldn't. Damn logic.

"Also," Kingsley continued. "We have absolutely nothing to go on. Hermione was kidnapped a week after the final battle. There were death eaters loose for approximately six months after that."

Draco tried to think of a loophole, but found he couldn't. His fists clenched. The bloody bastards would probably get away with it. He saw red.

He looked up at Potter, to see the boy-who-would-never-die mirroring his rage. The chosen's one's skin had gone red, and Draco could practically see steam omitting from his ears. Draco shot a look at Weasel. Red skin, red hair, angry face on, what else was new?

Draco turned to Kingsley. "We can't let them get away with it," he snarled.

Kingsley sighed. "I hate this just as much as you do, Draco. But I, as minister for magic, must think logically and rationally."

Draco felt the air in the room change. He winced slightly. He recognized this feeling, like at the beginning of a storm. Someone was about to explode, the same way Blaise did. This would not be pretty. A scream came from his right. Potter had blown his top.

"Screw logic and rationality!" Potter yelled. Hermione visibly flinched back from the noise. Potter barely noticed.

Draco found himself impressed. He hadn't known Potter had the capacity to get so angry. The chosen one was always the calm one. Seeing Potter with steam coming out his ears was not something you saw every day. This would be entertaining.

Kingsley quaked a little in his boots. "Harry, listen…."

Potter cut across him. "No Kingsley! I will not listen! I've waited seven years to get my hands on those bastards! They took Hermione away from me! My bloody best friend! They almost ruined my relationships with my wife and other best friend! They basically ruined my life! And I wasn't even the one who had my memory erased!"

Potter took a deep breath and continued.

"These bloody bastards deserve to rot in hell for what they did to us. And I will not rest until I can see them finished. That's not even enough. I will not rest until I can finish them myself."

Kingsley sighed. "I know what Hermione's disappearance did to you Harry. I was there."

Draco was exceptionally confused. It had been obvious how broken Harry had been since Hermione's disappearance. But, how did that affect his relationship with Weasel or Weaslette? There was a second side to this story.

"You heard about it, Kingsley," Potter sighed. "You did not live through it."

Weasel scoffed. "Everything's always about you, isn't it. You lived through terrible things, blahblahblah. I lost my brother! I lost my girlfriend!"

"She wasn't your fucking girlfriend!" Potter exploded.

Hermione stood up suddenly. Turning to Draco, she spoke quickly. "Can we got back to your house?"

Draco nodded. Weasel and Potter were about to really go at it, and he didn't want to be there for it.

He spoke at Kingsley. "We'll go to Hogwarts tomorrow. We'll relax today. Bye everyone."

Draco grabbed Hermione's arm, and apparated away. As they disappeared, Draco heard Potter yell at Ron once more.

"She was never in love with you!"

Good lord, there had to be another side of this story.

**Review my friends. I will see you soon.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Note: This chapter was up for a few hours, then it got deleted by accident. It's reuploaded now, with zero changes. Carry on.**

**Hey guys! I'm back.**

**Thanks for all the support on the last few chapters. It means so much. I'm now at 300 followers. I seriously love all of you. You guys are incredible.**

**Here's the next chapter. **

**Answers are coming to all of your questions, I promise.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter. I probably never will.**

Draco landed right in front of Malfoy Manor. Still grasping Hermione's hand, he began to lead her back up towards the manor. He didn't look at her though. His mind was too disconnected from reality.

He was running over the argument Potter and Weasel had been having. They probably were still going at it. Draco couldn't comprehend it, though some things were becoming clear. The fight that Potter and Weasel had the night of Hermione's disappearance had lasted seven years. They were still arguing about it today. Weasel had never really been with Hermione. Potter kept reminding Weasel of that fact. Potter and Weasel were definitely not the best friends they had been during their Hogwarts years. Something was off them.

Now that he thought about it, Potter and Weasel weren't really best friends anymore. In the seven years since Hermione's disappearance, he had hardly seen Potter and Weasel together. He had ran into Potter on numerous occasions, and Weasel had never been there. Potter had always been with Blaise, or Dean, sometimes Luna, but never the Weasel.

What had happened to sever a bond that deep? Potter and Weasel had only ever been in one fight, but they got over it. What could have happened to stop the two best friends in the world from being best friends?

Merlin, Draco was confused.

He and Hermione walked through the front doors of Malfoy Manor. Hermione turned to him.

"Can we go back to the kitchen? I didn't really eat a lot."

Draco nodded, still feeling disconnected. He led Hermione through the corridors, finally arriving at the kitchen. Narcissa was still sitting at the table. She was now reading through the expose on Hermione. She looked up as they entered.

"I was beginning to wonder what happened to you two," she said smiling, eyeing their intertwined hands.

Hermione smiled. "We got a little caught up." She turned to Draco to explain. It took him a moment to respond. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts.

"Umm, yeah. We were summoned to the ministry. Kingsley wanted to talk about how to proceed with Hermione."

Narcissa nodded. "What did he decide on?"

"Kingsley said the best way to get her memory back was by stimulation. We need to show her things that changed her life, to help her remember. So, later today, we'll be heading to Hogwarts." He had told Kingsley they'd go tomorrow, but whatever. Draco needed something to clear his mind.

Narcissa turned to Hermione. "There is nothing more life-changing than that school. It's where I made my friends, it's where I made myself. It's also where I met Lucius." Narcissa got a far-away look in her eye for a moment.

Hermione looked confused. "Who's Lucius?"

Narcissa sighed sadly. "He's my husband."

"Where is he?" Hermione looked around briefly, thinking that Lucius was going to appear out of thin air.

"You won't see him around here, sweetheart," Narcissa said softly. "He's in Azkaban."

"Alcatraz?" Hermione asked.

Narcissa shook her head. "Azkaban is the wizard prison. It's on an island in the Atlantic."

"Prison?" Hermione asked, stricken. The realization dawned upon her face. "Oh, was your husband a, ummm….."

"A death eater?" Narcissa asked. Hermione nodded meekly. "Yes, he was. And he will spend the rest of his life paying for that choice. And so will I."

Draco suddenly found himself being suffocated by his emotions. He didn't even know where it was coming from, but he could barely breathe.

"I'll be right back," Draco said quickly. He rushed out of the kitchen, closing the door behind him, leaving Hermione with his mother. She'd be fine, and Draco just needed some air.

He quickly walked through the corridors and exited the manor. He leant on a tree near the door, taking deep calming breaths.

He didn't even know why his emotions started smothering him. It was just, thinking about his mother's sadness, wondering about what could possibly be driving a wedge between the Golden Duo, and worrying about whether or not they were going to get Hermione's memories back, it was a lot to deal with.

Draco was very worried about the last thing more than he'd care to admit. Draco knew that memories could only be retrieved if the person who took them in the first place restored them. Lockhart, the moron, couldn't get his memories back because he was the one who had cast the obliviation spell. He'd forgotten the memories, so he couldn't reverse the spell. In all reality, Draco was surprised that some of Hermione's memories had returned. It was very uncommon that stimulation could do that, unless the memory charm was weak. Draco didn't think the memory charm was weak though, since Hermione hadn't remembered Potter. There was some other factor involved.

Draco took a couple more calming breaths. There was just so much going on. He just needed to relax. But he couldn't. He would keep fighting. He would keep working, until Hermione got her life back.

Draco felt the suffocation stop. His mind became clear once more. He had a goal. It cleared his mind, gave him purpose. He could do this. He could do anything.

Draco stood up straight and began to walk back into the Manor. He walked through the corridors and arrived back at the door to the kitchen. He reached for the doorknob, but hesitated as he heard Hermione's voice from within.

"Narcissa?"

"Yes, dear?" his mother responded. There was a pause, as if Hermione was debating whether or not to say what was on her mind.

"Could you tell me about your relationship with Lucius?" What? Why on earth would she want to know about that?

Narcissa spoke, slowly and sadly. "If you really want me to." There was no response, but his mother continued. Hermione must have nodded.

"Lucius was one year older than me in school. We were both in the same house: Slytherin. I remember the first time he ever spoke to me. I had tripped over something in the common room, and spilled the ink bottle I was holding onto his robes. This was second year, I believe. He immediately jumped up, and began yelling at me. I was so terrified, that I quickly turned around and ran up to my room, hiding."

Narcissa gave a short little laugh here. Draco found himself leaning towards the door. His mother had never told him this story.

Narcissa continued. "From there on, he bullied me constantly. Knocking my books out of my hands, calling me names. I found out later it was because of my older sister Bellatrix. Though the two got along moderately alright in later years, back at Hogwarts she used to bully him. Because she was my sister, he hated me by association."

Hermione sounded shocked. "He hated you just because of your family?"

Narcissa must have nodded. "That's fairly common in the wizarding world. Or, at least, it used to be. He hated me because of where I came from, and I hated him in response."

Hermione sounded baffled now. "Then how did you two end up married?"

Draco could hear the smile in his mother's voice. "Something changed. I think it was fourth year, so after my sister had graduated from Hogwarts. He acted differently towards me. Kinder, in a way. It threw me off. I was so used to this malevolent tyrant, that I hadn't considered maybe he had another side. I started to see that other side, the sweeter side. It was little things, Hermione. The way he spared glances in my direction, the way he caught my books when I dropped them instead of knocking them out of my hands himself. He even helped me get a book off one of the higher shelves in the library. He seemed to me a changed man."

"He'd gotten over where I'd come from, because, in reality, that was the only reason he hated me. And the only reason I hated him was because he hated me. I started to regard him in a more affectionate eye. We were on the road to being friends."

"Then something changed. I started sparing him glances whenever I could. I found myself thinking about him all the time. I saw him everywhere. I didn't know how, but this person who had made my life hell for years suddenly became the centre of my every thought."

"It happened one night, late. I was studying for an ancient runes test in the library. This was year six I believe. He came in, and walked over to my table. Lucius was particularly gifted in ancient runes. He started helping me. We were talking, laughing, just having a good time. He's so charming. Then suddenly, he kissed me."

Narcissa sighed, obviously in a far off place. "It was wonderful. I hadn't realised how deeply in love with him I already was. From there, we started a relationship. It was easy, effortless, and natural. We had no problems. He was my best friend, the one I could go to with anything. He was always there for me, and me for him."

"We both graduated Hogwarts, he a year before me. We were married a week after my graduation ceremony. Our families were elated, given that both Lucius and I were from rich, old, and powerful pure-blooded families. I couldn't care less though. As long as I had Lucius, I knew I was going to be alright."

"That's a nice story," Hermione smiled.

Narcissa gave a short, humourless laugh. "That's only the first chapter. You, I assume, know about umm… Voldemort?" Narcissa said the name quickly. His mother was still scared of using it.

Hermione must have nodded, for Narcissa continued. "Lucius got involved with him. I don't know why. It might've been for the power, maybe to protect us, maybe for some completely unrelated reason. Lucius became a death eater. I never did, because at the time, Lucius and I were trying to have a child. We couldn't though. We tried and tried, but it didn't work. I became rather depressed. I wanted a child more than anything. The only thing that cheered me up was that Lucius stuck by me. He was still my rock, even though I could see him changing."

"He became crueler, more power-hungry. He was more controlling. He never hurt me, or yelled at me. It was in the little things. I couldn't leave the manor without informing him, I saw him hurt the house-elves. It hurt me to see him hurt others. My Lucius was still there, I knew it. But I only saw him in the few moments Lucius and I were alone."

"Voldemort was changing him, I knew it. That evil bastard," wow, congrats mom, "was ruining the man I fell in love with. I begged Lucius to leave the death eaters. He always said the same thing. "I can't Narcissa. I have to do this, for us." I never understood what he meant."

"I became even more depressed as Lucius changed even more before my eyes. I started hoping for a child even more, so I could have someone, for I feared I was losing Lucius. We tried and tried for that child. It seemed hopeless."

"Then, one day, just when I had given up, I finally got my wish. It was seven years after we had started trying, but I was finally declared pregnant. All my dreams had come true. I could see some of my Lucius returning, though not all. He was in too deep with the death eaters. However, in those small moments, with just the two of us, I could still see the love in his eyes. He wasn't completely lost."

"Nine months later, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. Lucius let me name him. I named him Draco, after my favourite constellation. My little dragon, I used to call him. He brought light into my life. In a world that was so dark, he was my star. He was my reminder of the Lucius that I loved."

Draco found himself tearing up. He had always had a close relationship with his mother, but he had never assumed why. It lifted his heart hearing his mother saying these things.

"I kept him by my side, always," Narcissa continued. "I didn't want him anywhere near Voldemort or the death eaters. Even Lucius couldn't see him without my presence. Lucius was his father, but Lucius was also a death eater. He was changing, and I was worried for my son."

"There was one night, about a year and a half later, where I was with Draco in the kitchen, this kitchen, as a matter of fact. He had just said his first word: dragon. It was so adorable. I was just fawning over him when Lucius burst through the door. He was pale and babbling. I could only make out a few words. "The Dark Lord is gone." I remember my heart stopping."

"Voldemort had disappeared. I was so happy I could barely contain it. Then I realized what this meant. Lucius was in danger. He might even be sent to Azkaban. I was petrified. I rushed over to my husband and held him, crying. Lucius held me too, crying as well. This was the first time I had seen my real husband in a long time. No matter the circumstances, I clung to him, wondering if he might disappear before my eyes."

"Luckily, through a process of lies, Lucius managed to escape Azkaban. He came back to the Manor. I was estatic. I thought we were finally going to have the life we had always wanted. But no. Lucius was too far over the edge to ever truly return. He was so much crueler. I knew, in that moment, that my husband was gone."

"For years, I lived a half-life. Draco was my only source of comfort, my son, my little dragon. Lucius was nothing but cruel, to both me, and my son. I didn't know what to do. I tried to stay strong, to protect my son from the tyrant my husband had become. I was able to. Lucius never laid a finger on my dragon."

"What about you?" Hermione asked, worriedly. Draco started. He had been so engrossed in his mother's story that he had forgotten Hermione was also listening.

Narcissa let a chocked sob. "Many times. But I could handle it. I needed to protect my boy. Then , when Draco left for Hogwarts, everything changed once again."

"I never even saw Lucius. I avoided him at all costs. This man wasn't my husband. This man was a monster. But I knew, he wasn't the real monster."

"It was Voldemort who had done this, turned my kind and caring husband into a tyrant. I hated Voldemort even more than I already had. But then, four years after Draco had left for Hogwarts, the monster returned. Voldemort was back. Lucius was back in his service. My life was over the moment I heard the news."

"Lucius failed Voldemort after his return, and ended up locked up in Azkaban, for the first time. At first, I relieved. Lucius, or this pale imitation of him, was out of my life. But then, because of Lucius' failure, Draco became involved."

"What happened?" Hermione asked, practically begging for the answer.

Narcissa sighed. "At the time, besides Harry Potter, there was only one person Voldemort feared. His name was Albus Dumbledore, and he was headmaster at Hogwarts. Voldemort initiated Draco, my dragon, into the death eaters, and gave him the task of murdering Dumbledore. If Draco were to fail, Voldemort would kill Lucius, me, and Draco himself. Draco, at first, was up for the challenge. I don't know why. But in the end, he couldn't do it."

"He couldn't do it?" Hermione asked. She didn't sound surprised.

"No. He is too pure of heart to commit such an atrocity. I know that he has killed, but it was under the Imperius curse."

"What's the imperius curse?" asked Hermione.

"It's a controlling curse," his mother replied.

There was a pause. Then Hermione said timidly, "Draco's never killed anyone by his choice?"

His mother must have shook her head. "He never had a choice. It ripped him in half the first time he was forced. But he never did it by his choice. He has a good heart."

The room went silent for a minute or two. Then his mother continued the story.

"Afterwards, Voldemort hated our family so very much. Lucius broke out of Azkaban later that year, and was back in my life. The tyrant was back but was fading. He wasn't as evil after Azkaban. If anything, he looked dazed all the time."

"Then the final battle came, and Draco disappeared. I couldn't find him anywhere. I was worried out of my mind. I couldn't find Lucius either. Everyone was disappearing. Then Potter was killed, right before my eyes."

"Killed?" Hermione asked, startled. "But, he…what?"

Narcissa chuckled. "The boy who lived is called that for a reason. Anyway, as Potter was murdered right in front of me, I gave up. I would never find my son. I would never reconcile with Lucius. I died when Potter died."

"Then Voldemort sent me, me, to see if Potter was really alive. The second I reached his body, I knew he had survived. I could see him breathing. I had one thought in my mind. I leant down and whispered in the saviour's ears. "Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?" And Potter replied. Yes. My boy was alive. I turned to Voldemort and told him Potter had died."

"Soon after, Voldemort discovered Potter was alive. The battle recommenced. I remember screaming for Draco, searching the duels going on all around me. That's when someone sent a killing curse in my direction. I could see the streak of green. I didn't try to move. If this was life, why would I want to live? I was just closing my eyes, embracing the end, when someone pulled me out of the way."

"It was Lucius."

"I looked at him, ready to scream at him, for ruining our lives, for killing Draco, for not allowing me to give up, but then I met his eyes. They were weak, they were tired, but more importantly, they were his. They were the eyes of Lucius Malfoy, the boy who had kissed me in the library. They were the eyes of Lucius Malfoy, the man who had married me a week after my graduation. They were the eyes of Lucius Malfoy, my true love."

"For the first time in nearly seventeen years, I laid eyes on my husband. I remember nearly passing out from the shock. I tried to speak, but I couldn't. Lucius looked at me, and said one word. Draco. We understood each other. No matter what, we had to save our son. We ran through the crowd, hand in hand, screaming for our boy. We found him soon after. He was in a duel with a death eater named Yaxley. Lucius raised his wand, and sent a jinx at Yaxley. The death eater stumbled, and Draco managed to send him flying out a window. Draco turned and saw us, and we all ran to each other. For the first time ever, as we clung to each other that night, we were a family."

"Harry killed Voldemort soon after. For a few weeks before our various trials, Lucius, me, and Draco were all home together. We were terrified though, and kept to ourselves, each dreading our own individual trials. When the trials came, Draco and I got off. But Lucius was sent to Azkaban. I was there that day, praying for Lucius' forgiveness. But I knew my prayers were in vain. I got a few minutes with him before he was sent away. He kissed me, and told me he loved me. When the ministry official came to get him, his final words to me were, "I'm sorry."

"He's been in Azkaban since then. I'm allowed to visit every year on his birthday. I see him then, but I don't really see him. He lost his sanity a long time ago. That's what Azkaban does to you. I could just take him out of his misery. I have the option, as his wife, now that he's deemed insane. But I can't. Every time I think about him, I still remember the little boy who bullied me, and turned out to be the love of my life. I'm not selfless enough to give that up."

Narcissa went silent then, her story at an end. Hermione didn't respond. Draco had sunken to his knees, thinking about everything his mother had just said.

He and his father had never been close. He knew that from the beginning. His father always acted if Draco was the bane of his existence. Draco had accepted that early on. It didn't bother him. He had seen the relationship between his mother and father. His father was controlling, cruel, and sometimes abusive. His mother had always taken it. Now Draco knew why.

It was to protect him. It was all to protect him. Draco felt the guilt tear at his heart. His mother had taken many beatings over the years for him. He had always assumed that it was because she was just in the way. Now he knew the truth. His mother loved him more than the earth itself.

Draco thought back to the thoughts he had had leaving Canada. He had thought that nobody needed him, that if he disappeared, his close friends and family would grieve, but move on. That wasn't true. His mother needed him. She had always needed him. He had just been too caught up in his own life to realize that.

How could Draco not have noticed? Everything his mother had been through, and he had never once thought about it. Draco hadn't even known she loved Lucius. He had always assumed that their marriage was out of convenience, not love. He had never seen love when his father looked at his mother. But his mother had loved Lucius through it all.

Draco felt guilty beyond any guilt he had felt before. He felt as though he had taken his mother for granted. Yes, he had stayed by her side after the battle. Yes, he had lived with her in the manor. But his mother had given up everything for him. She had protected him from everything. She had loved him more than her own life. Draco felt a sudden urge to hug his mother and cry.

He heard Narcissa's voice from within once more.

"Please don't tell Draco about this," she asked Hermione. "He doesn't know about the majority of this."

"I won't," Hermione said softly.

"He cares about you deeply, you know," Narcissa said. "More than he's ever cared about anything."

"I know," Hermione said, her voice barely a whisper now.

"Don't let him slip through your fingers," Narcissa said. "He's stubborn, and he's made mistakes. But I've seen the way he looks at you. You've changed him, Hermione, for the better. If you let him get away, I know you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

"I won't. I promise," Hermione said strongly.

Draco took a deep breath, and tried to put a poker face on. Breathing in, he walked back into the kitchen.

**Review guys. I will see you next week :)**


	24. Chapter 24

**Hey guys. Normal stuff. Don't own Harry Potter. Hope you like the chapter. See you next week and stuff. I hit 70 000 words last chapter. This is going to be a long story.**

**I'm tired.**

Draco walked back into the kitchen, trying not to show the hundreds of emotions racing through him. His mother and Hermione looked up as he walked in. Narcissa sent a smile his way. It didn't quite reach her eyes. Draco's heart contracted when he looked at his mother. It was nearly painful. He turned to Hermione instead. She was giving him a dazzling smile that did reach her eyes. His heart hurt looking at her as well. With nowhere to look, he sat down and stared at the wall, trying to crush his emotions down deep.

"Are you alright, Draco?" his mother asked, concern saturating her voice.

"Yes, mum," Draco replied, cheerily. He sounded as though he was on helium. "I just felt a little overwhelmed. I'm alright."

"I'm glad. I was just telling Hermione a bit about my Hogwarts years. When are you two going to head up there?"

"Soon, I guess. I'm thinking we should eat, and then we can apparate over."

Narcissa nodded. Turning to Hermione, she asked, "What do you want for breakfast, dear?"

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. "Pancakes and maple syrup."

Draco chuckled. Such a Canadian.

A house-elf heard her and started preparing the food. Narcissa, in the meantime, began a conversation with Hermione about Canada. Draco slowly sipped some coffee while listening to his mother and Hermione. The two of them seemed to have bonded fairly quickly.

Suddenly, a loud shrilling filled the air. Draco jumped up, knocking his coffee over.

"What was that?" asked Hermione.

"Someone's trying to get past the wards," Draco said quickly. Shit. They'd found her. Who they were didn't particularly matter.

"Draco, darling, don't worry," Narcissa soothed. "They can't get past the wards without either your or my permission." Draco nodded, calming down. Yay magic.

"They'll be at the gates," Draco said. "I'm going to see who it is." Draco still wanted an idea of who knew where Hermione was. Narcissa nodded, understanding.

Draco raced out of the kitchen and back through the manor once more. He raced out the door and down the sloped grounds. Arriving at the gates, he screeched to a halt.

Looking at the idiot who had tried to apparate on to the grounds, Draco felt relieved. It wasn't a reporter. It wasn't an auror. It wasn't even Harry Potter.

It was Seamus bloody Finnigan.

"Oi! Draco!" The Irishman waved from beyond the gates. "Are you going to allow me entrance to your humble abode?"

Draco looked at him skeptically, remembering something Mad-eye Moody used to say.

"In the letter Seamus Finnigan wrote me a few weeks ago, what did he say the cold of Canada was doing?"

Seamus gave him a look of incredulity. "I said it was competing with your icy soul."

Draco nodded and opened the gates. Seamus walked in.

"Was that really necessary?" Seamus asked.

"Constant vigilance, my dear Gryffindor," Draco smirked, closing and locking the gates once more. Seamus rolled his eyes, but wasn't going to be discouraged.

"So, Malfoy," the Irishman started, but Draco cut across him.

"Hermione is back, her memory is gone, and she's been hanging out in Canada for seven years."

Seamus looked baffled. "Actually, I was going to ask you how the Malfoy Industries office in Canada was."

"Oh. It's good."

Seamus nodded. The two of them began walking towards the manor. They remained in silence until they got to the door.

"So, Hermione's back?" Seamus asked.

Draco nodded. "Yep."

Seamus smiled. "Good. I've missed her."

Draco found himself suddenly wanting to throttle his favourite employee. He shook off this insanity.

Leading Seamus through the front door, Draco's mind strayed back to the conversation he had overheard between his mother and Hermione. He couldn't believe all his mother had been through. He hadn't known a quarter of what she had told Hermione. He loved his mother more than anything in the world, and now, he respected her more than anyone in the world. He couldn't believe she was still carrying on. What an amazing woman.

Seamus and he had arrived at the kitchen. Draco entered first.

"It was just Seamus," he said, replying to his mother's look of worry. Narcissa nodded, and went back to reading the paper. His mother knew Seamus well from the many midnight meetings they had had when Draco was still living at the manor.

Hermione, however, didn't know Seamus Finnigan anymore. She looked up curiously, as the Irishman strutted through the door. Seamus looked around, and quickly spotted his old classmate. His face broke out into a giant grin. It was slightly terrifying.

Seamus ran across the room to Hermione, who jumped up in surprise. Seamus quickly pulled her into a ginormous hug. It was clearly friendly, but it made Draco's blood boil.

Hermione, with no other real option, returned his hug. Seamus was laughing in happiness, and he spun her around several times. Hermione was smiling now too, throwing her head back in laughter.

Draco nearly growled.

Seamus set Hermione back. Draco had never seen his head of international offices so happy.

"Welcome back Hermione," he said. The sincerity in his voice saturated the air.

Hermione, smiling widely, replied. "You know I have absolutely no idea who you are, right?"

Seamus nodded, still smiling. He took a step back, and sunk down into a bow. Looking up at Hermione, smiling cheekily, he introduced himself.

"Seamus Finnigan, Gryffindor, and one of your classmates for approximately six years."

Hermione chuckled. She sunk down into a curtsy.

"Hermione Mas..Granger. Trying to understand what is going on."

Seamus burst out laughing. He pulled Hermione back into a hug.

"Long time no see, Miss Granger," he whispered in her ear. "I've missed you."

The way Seamus was acting around Hermione was solely out of friendship, Draco could see that. It was not close at all to the way Weasel acted around her, or even Potter. Seamus did not see Hermione in a romantic way at all. In fact, Draco didn't think Seamus saw anyone in a romantic way. He had never even mentioned a girlfriend.

Still, seeing Seamus hugging Hermione, Draco felt a growl nearly escape his lips.

Seamus, after what seemed like an eternity, let Hermione go. Hermione look at Draco, with a confused smile on her face.

Draco crushed his rising emotions, to answer her expression.

"Hermione, this is Seamus Finnigan." At this, Seamus gave Hermione a two finger salute. "He was in our year at Hogwarts, but he was in your house. Now, he works for me."

"With you, my good sir," Seamus corrected, chuckling.

Draco shot him an exasperated glare. "For me." Seamus shrugged in defeat.

Hermione smiled. "That's nice. I'm sorry though, Seamus. I have absolutely no idea who you are."

Seamus looked mock offended. "Forget moi? How is such a thing possible?"

Hermione burst out in giggles. "I'm going to like you."

Seamus laughed. "I'm likable."

Draco was near murder now.

Seamus took a seat at the table, waving at Narcissa, who gave him a nod over the paper. Hermione sat down as well. Draco remained standing, glaring at his employee.

"So, Draco," Seamus started. His best employee didn't seem to notice the look of extreme hatred currently adorning Draco's features.

"What are you guys up to today?" Seamus finished his question.

Draco took a deep breath, trying to calm his emotions. When he felt he had them under control, he answered the question.

"We're going to head up to Hogwarts after Hermione's done eating." By this time, a house elf had placed Hermione's pancakes and maple syrup before her. She was gobbling them down.

Seamus looked puzzled. "Why? Have you been up to Hogwarts since the battle?"

Draco shook his head. "No. I didn't have any reason to."

Seamus continued. "I went up last year with Dean. It's a weird feeling, man. You look around and you see the good memories, then a second later your mind is flooded with the bad. Your brain is overcome with flashbacks, which I assume," Seamus turned to Hermione, smiling cheekily, "is why you are going."

Draco nodded, trying once more to quench the urge to throttle the Irishman. What was this insanity?

Seamus was now talking to Hermione. "Do you have any memories left, like at all?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "Only two, and I've only remembered them in the last couple weeks."

Seamus smiled. "Don't worry, Hermione. You'll remember. There's nothing your mind cannot do."

Hermione looked appreciative of Seamus' support. "Thanks, Seamus," she muttered, looking at the ground, blushing slightly. Avoiding everyone's eye, she continued to finish off her pancakes.

A few seconds later, she was done. "Shall we go now?" she asked.

Draco nodded. Narcissa looked stricken.

"Draco! You two aren't even dressed." Oh yeah. Clothes.

Narcissa shook her head. "I'll give Hermione some of my robes to wear. She's going to have to get used to wearing wizard robes anyway." That sounded good.

"Hermione, go with my mum, she'll get you dressed." Hermione nodded, and hopped out of the chair. She left with Narcissa.

Seamus was still smiling. "It's strange. It's Hermione, but it's not. You know?" Seamus' eyes turned to the door Hermione had just left through.

Draco couldn't contain the growl this time. It left his lips, in a menacing fashion. Seamus looked over in surprise.

"Draco, you alright, mate?"

"What are you playing at Finnigan?" he hissed. "Why are you being so friendly with Hermione?"

Seamus looked dumbfounded. "Because we are friends."

"That doesn't mean you have to flaunt it!" Draco said angrily.

Seamus eyed him for a moment. Suddenly, his eyes popped open, and he started gaping.

"Do you think I'm interested in Hermione, like, romantically?"

When Draco didn't answer, Seamus lost it.

He fell off his chair, overcome with such laughter as to completely lose control. He began to roll around on the floor, clutching his stomach as his frame shook with rowdy guffaws. Draco just stared, unsure of what was going on.

When Seamus was able to regain control, his face was bright red and covered with tears. He was laughing so hard he had cried. Seamus stood up, clutching the table for support.

"Draco, mate," Seamus laughed. "I'm gay."

All of his ill-will towards Seamus disappeared in an instant. Instead, embarrassment took over. Draco could feel his cheeks heating up.

"Oh," he said sheepishly. "Sorry."

Seamus let out one final guffaw. "It's fine, mate. Honestly, I thought you knew."

Draco shook his head, and thought back. In all reality, this explained a lot.

"When did this, start?" Draco couldn't find a better way to phrase it.

Seamus shrugged. "Sixth year, maybe. I don't really know."

Draco felt really embarrassed now. "I totally missed this. How did I totally miss this? We're really good friends."

Seamus laughed. "It's fine mate. Sometimes you just get wrapped up in yourself, and that's ok. What I'm more curious about is, even if I did like Hermione romantically, why would you care?"

Draco found himself officially stumped. "I….um…well…"

Seamus let out a giant laugh, which was followed by several small guffaws. "Are you telling me that Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Prince, has the hots for Hermione Granger?"

Draco's heart stuttered, and the blush reappeared on his face. "I did not say that."

Seamus chuckled. "Maybe your mouth didn't, but your eyes sure as hell did."

Before Draco had time to respond, Hermione and Narcissa returned.

Hermione was draped in classic wizard robes, of the bottle green variety. They draped over her form splendidly. They were actually fairly low cut, showing the curve of her neck, which distracted Draco for a moment. The robes were trimmed with silver. Draco chuckled. How many times was Hermione going to end up in Slytherin colours?

Hermione seemed rather comfortable in the robes. She had no trouble holding herself in them, or walking in them. Her hair was down, as usual, curled around her shoulders. Her brown eyes were sparkling.

Draco's breath caught for a moment, and he worked on the ability to breath. He didn't know why Hermione in this outfit affected him so much. He had seen her dressed in much more spectacular dresses that made her look like a goddess. But seeing Hermione dressed in bottle green wizard robes, Draco's heart was pounding faster than it had in a long time.

Why though? There was nothing spectacular about wizard robes, and that's all it was. Just a classic set of green wizard robes. Her hair wasn't styled; it was just resting on her shoulders. She wasn't wearing any makeup, (not that she needed it.) She wasn't adorned with ridiculously expensive jewellery. She wasn't dressed to the nines. She was just dressed in wizard robes.

That was it, Draco realized. Hermione was dressed in _wizard_ robes. This was the first time, in a long time, that Hermione Granger had been dressed like a witch. This was the first time, in ages, that Draco was in the presence of the cleverest witch of their age. This was the first time, in a while, that Hermione was a war heroine. This was the first time, in seven years, that Hermione was herself, if not mentally, but physically.

It struck Draco how powerful this moment was. Hermione was really coming back to the wizard world, Draco thought. This was just the first step on a very long journey. But they would make it.

Together.

"I best be heading off," said Seamus, more to Draco than the others.

Draco nodded. Then something occurred to him.

"Oi Seamus, mate, why were you even here?"

Seamus chuckled. He turned to Hermione. "I wanted to see what was up with the Gryffindor Princess."

Hermione smiled. She had taken an easy liking to Seamus. Even though Draco now knew his employee was gay, it still irked him how much Hermione liked him.

Seamus walked up to the Gryffindor Princess, and gave her a quick hug. Turning to Narcissa, he gave a short bow.

"Can I apparate out of here mate?" Draco nodded. It was only apparating in that was a problem.

"I'll see you all soon," Seamus smiled. With a final salute, and a pop, he was gone.

Draco turned to Hermione. She was chuckling as she looked him over. Draco looked down. Crap. He was still in pyjamas.

"One moment, please," he said quickly. He rushed out of the kitchen and to his room. He threw on his own set of wizard robes, which were black. Black had always suited him. He chose to apparate back to the kitchen.

With a pop, he appeared right in front of Hermione. She started, but quickly understood what had happened. She seemed to be getting used to magic again.

"Are you two going to head up to Hogwarts now?" Narcissa asked, as she took her place at the table once more.

Draco nodded.

"Does Mcgonagall know you're coming?" Crap. Draco had forgotten about that.

"She will soon," was his answer. Narcissa laughed, and picked the paper back up.

"I must say, Hermione," she said, her eyes skimming over a section. "Your escapades before your disappearance are rather interesting."

"I wouldn't know," Hermione replied. Draco almost laughed. Hermione had a rather dry sense of humour.

"Are you ready?" he asked her. She nodded.

Draco held out his hand, and she took it without question. That made him smile.

He pulled her close, and whispered, "hold on tight." She wrapped her arms around his waist, and held him.

"Bye, mum!" He said over his shoulder, as he apparated them away. Right before they disappeared, he saw his mother eyeing him and Hermione. He couldn't quite place the emotion on her face. She looked almost proud.

The sensation of apparation was something that took a little while to get used to, so Draco wasn't surprised when, following the moment they hit the ground, Hermione vomited.

Draco rubbed her back, and said soothingly, "Apparation takes a while to get used to."

Hermione straightened up, and wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand. "I can tell." Draco smiled and took out his wand. Hermione eyed it warily. He pointed it at her and muttered, Scorgify, which immediately cleaned her up. She nodded at him in thanks. Then she stood up.

Hermione looked around. Raising her eyebrows, she said, "This doesn't look like a gigantic castle in Scotland."

"Well, dear Hermione, it's not."

"Why didn't we apparate to the castle?"

"Well, you can't apparate in or out of the Hogwarts castle or grounds." Draco found it a bit ironic that it was always Hermione who was reminding people of this fact, and now she couldn't remember. Oh, how the tides had turned.

"Where are we then?"

Draco had apparated them to Hogsmeade. Hermione looked around at all the shops.

"Dear Hermione, we are in Hogsmeade, a little village fifteen minutes away from the castle. I need to send a message to the Headmistress before taking you onto the grounds, as well."

Hermione nodded and began walking up the cobbled street. Draco immediately reached out and pulled her back. He had just thought of something.

"Hermione, we are on the front of the Prophet today. If we walk around Hogsmeade looking like ourselves, we will be mobbed."

"So what do we do?" Hermione asked.

Draco smirked, whipping out his wand. "I think it's time for a little more magic." Hermione nodded, excited.

Draco cast a glamour over both him and Hermione, sending a shimmer through the air. Hermione now had blonde hair, a pale complexion, and gray eyes. He had brown hair, tanned skin and freckles.

Hermione smiled, pulling some of her hair in front of her face. Her smile grew wider when she saw the colour.

"I think we will be sufficiently disguised for the moment." Hermione nodded, and held out her hand. Draco took it without hesitation.

They walked through the streets. Nobody paid them a second glance. Draco veered into the post office, and sent a quick letter to Mcgonagall asking her permission to enter the school. He casually mentioned that the minister for magic was behind the idea.

After he sent that off, he took Hermione to the Three Broomsticks.

The Three Broomsticks, for the first time in his memory, was completely silent. It was packed, but no one was speaking. Every single customer was currently bent over today's copy of The Daily Prophet. Draco could see his and Hermione's picture on every table in the room. Thank Merlin they had glamoured up.

No one looked up as they walked to the counter, where Draco proceeded to order two butterbeers from Madame Rosmerta. He didn't look her in the eyes as he handed over a few sickles. He hadn't seen her since his sixth year, when she had been imperiused.

Hermione and he were lucky. There was one empty table in the far back corner. It was a corner booth that Draco knew, for a fact, Hogwarts students liked to use as a make out booth. With this thought in mind, he slid into it with Hermione.

Hermione eyed the butterbeer he had placed before her.

"It's butterbeer, it's delicious," he assured her quietly. Even his whisper sounded loud in the deathly quiet pub. No one paid them any mind though; they were too engrossed in the article.

Hermione took a little sip of the liquid, and her face lit up. She downed the whole glass in a minute. Draco just watched her. When she finally finished, she set the glass down.

"That was amazing," she said softly. She took her straw and stirred up the remaining froth at the bottom of the glass.

Draco nodded. "It really warms you up."

Hermione smiled. She then started looking around the pub. She was just observing the customers. Draco watched her, and wondered what she was thinking. Draco was so focused on getting her memories back that he had forgotten to ask her what she was thinking of the world so far. He should probably do that.

But, before he had time to form the words, an owl swooped in through one of the open windows. The customers all looked up from the Daily Prophet. The owl flew through the pub and landed gracefully on the table Draco and Hermione were sitting at. The owl held out its leg; attached, was a letter, addressed in green ink, to Draco Malfoy. Draco recognized the writing easily: it was the same as on every one of his Hogwarts' letters.

The other customers all looked interested for a second, but after a few seconds of staring they all turned back to their copies of The Daily Prophet.

Draco unattached the letter and the owl flew back across the pub and out the open window. Draco opened the letter while Hermione watched.

It was a reply from Mcgonagall.

_Mr Malfoy,_

_Hermione Granger is one of the most brilliant students Hogwarts has ever had. If this school can, for unspecific reasons, help her, there is no way I can say no. Bring her up to the gates, I will meet you there._

_-Minerva Mcgonagall_

Draco turned to Hermione. "We can head up to Hogwarts now." She nodded, while eyeing his untouched butterbeer. He sighed, and pushed it across the table. She smiled in thanks, and downed it quickly.

The two of them stood up and left the Three Broomsticks. They set out up the street. The buildings of Hogsmeade were blocking Hogwarts from their view, but Draco knew in a second, the mighty castle would be on display. Surely, as they reached the final little shop on the street, Draco saw Hogwarts looming on the horizon. Instead of looking at his home of six years, Draco looked turned around quickly. There was no one around. He took out his wand and removed their glamours. He wanted to see her reaction on her own face.

Her eyes grew wide quickly, and her smile exploded in happiness. Her face became elated with wonder. Her eyes were glazed over and twinkling as she looked at the many turrets and towers. She then looked at the lake. She looked at the various bridges. She looked and looked and looked, as they drew steadily closer to their home. As she looked at Hogwarts, Draco looked at her. Her face was happier than he had ever seen it. There was amazement. There was astonishment. There was joy. But, there was no sign of the one thing Draco had been praying for.

Recognition.

They walked forward, and drew near to the large iron gates. As they arrived, the gates opened. They walked through them without hesitation. Waiting on the other side was an old witch. She was wearing deep violet robes trimmed with gold, and a matching hat. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun.

As Draco and Hermione approached, Hermione wrapped her hand around his. The witch waiting for them eyed their intertwined hands with delight. Well, that was a strange reaction.

Draco and Hermione came to a stop in front of her. She eyed Hermione, looking her over, memorizing every inch. When she was finished, Professor Mcgonagall spoke, with a tear in her eye.

"Welcome back Miss Granger."

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	25. Chapter 25

**Hello all. Nothing new to report. About the chapter, I'm telling you know that the next few chapter will be quite eventful. I just finished writing chapter 28, and I'm excited to get them out to you very soon. Oh, I'd love if you guys could review, I'm almost at 300 reviews, and I'd love to hit that soon. **

**Disclaimer: I still don't.**

**I hope you guys like it.**

Hogwarts' Headmistress looked as she always did: wizard robes, wizard hat, spectacles, hair tied up in a bun, and an aura of someone you never wanted to cross. The only thing that was different was her expression. It was filled with happiness. Draco was so used to seeing Professor Mcgonagall with an expression of anger, or a stone face. This blinding happiness was weird, but of course, this was the reaction Hermione was getting from everyone.

Mcgonagall was smiling like a baboon at her favourite pupil. Hermione looked very confused. Draco thought he should explain to the Headmistress what had happened, before she brought them up to the school.

"Good day, professor," he started. The headmistress spared him a quick glance, but her eyes returned quickly to Hermione.

"Umm, professor, before we go in, there are some things you should know about your favourite student here," Draco said, gesturing to Hermione. That got Mcgonagall's attention. Her eyes snapped to Draco, and narrowed slightly.

"What is it, Mr. Malfoy?" she said shortly. Draco bit back a chuckle. Some things never did change. That was refreshing. Quickly, before she could give him detention, he explained to the headmistress what had happened to Hermione's memory.

"So that's why we're here," he concluded. "Kingsley thinks that we can help restore her memory through stimulation."

Mcgonagall nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, in rare cases of memory removal, stimulation can return the memory."

"Well," Draco finished. "Rare is definitely the way to describe this situation."

Mcgonagall chuckled, and gestured for the two of them to begin walking up to the school with her. Almost immediately, she wrapped her arm around Hermione's shoulders and began to tell the girl who she was. Draco wasn't really paying attention though. He was too busy looking around.

The grounds looked the same, as vast and expansive as they were before. The castle still loomed over the hills. There were still students flying over the Quidditch pitch in the distance. There were still owls swooping in and out of the owlery. Thestrals still glided over the trees of the forbidden forest, though Draco could now see them. Smoke still billowed from the chimney of Hagrid's hut, rebuilt to its prior imperfection. It seemed like everything was the same.

Yet, nothing was the same at all.

Draco's breathing grew heavy as they walked up towards the castle door. He was having flashbacks everywhere he looked. That was where the giant spiders had come from. That was where Lavender Brown lost her life because of a psychotic monster. That was where Dumbledore had fallen the night he died. This was the path Potter had walked to meet his death, sort of. This is where Draco himself had begged for his life.

He understood what Seamus had meant. Hogwarts held so many good memories. He remembered flying through the air, laughing with his friends, talking to Snape, dining in the Great Hall, and finally being reunited with his parents after the death of the worst man to ever walk the planet.

But none of those memories held up when the memory of the death of countless innocents flooded his mind.

He hoped if Hermione remembered anything, she only remembered the good.

They had reached the front doors. Mcgonagall took her arm off Hermione's shoulders, and turned to address them both.

"I'd love to walk around the castle with the two of you, however, several irresponsible third graders decided to put gnomes in all of the girls' lavatories. I must deal with that nonsense. Should I send someone to show you around?"

Draco shook his head. "Don't worry professor; my six years of schooling here have given me enough knowledge of this castle to give guided tours. We'll be fine."

Mcgonagall gave a quick chuckle, which changed into a scowl almost immediately. Looking him squarely in the eye, she said, "I'm trusting you with this, Mr. Malfoy. You have changed since your school years. I deem you to be a trustworthy person. Don't let that be a mistake."

With that, Mcgongall turned on her heel and headed towards her office. Draco pitied the third graders who had decided gnomes were a good prank. They were about to have their heads chewed off.

Hermione turned to Draco. "So this is Hogwarts."

Draco nodded, but didn't say anything. Hogwarts wasn't something words could explain. He held out his hand, which she took without hesitation. With that, they both turned and entered the castle of Hogwarts, for what felt like the first time in a century.

It was incredible how long you can be away from a place, yet you can remember everything about it. As Draco's eyes scanned over the entrance hall, he remembered all the memories that he had ever experienced there. Hogwarts had given him so many memories. Not all good, but still. So much of his life had been spent here. Hogwarts was home. He'd nearly forgotten.

Hermione looked astounded. "This is incredible!" she whispered, glancing around the entrance hall in awe.

Draco chuckled. "This is only the entrance hall."

With Hermione's hand still firmly clasped in his, Draco began to lead Hermione through their home.

Instead of taking her into the Great Hall, he led her up the Grand Staircase first. Hermione was simply astounded as she took in the hundreds of moving staircases. It was with great apprehension that she took a step onto one. Then, it was with great surprise that she latched onto Draco the second their staircase began moving.

Draco chuckled. Looking at Hermione's amazed expression, he said, "The magic world holds many surprises."

Hermione laughed, then grabbed onto a railing, and enjoyed their trip.

When they got off their moving staircase, Draco once again took Hermione's hand. He was very much enjoying this whole "hand holding" thing. The two of them began walking down the second floor corridor. Draco walked with purpose. He knew exactly where he was taking her.

Hermione noticed his determination. "Where are we headed, Draco?"

Draco smirked as he looked at her. "Your favourite place in the world."

Hermione looked confused, but didn't protest. Draco smiled. This was going to be fun.

They arrived at a set of large doors. Draco gestured towards them. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Welcome home," he said, and pushed the doors open, revealing the Hogwarts Library.

Hermione's jaw dropped. She walked in a trance through the doors. Her eyes glistened as she took in the rows upon rows of leather bound books. She looked like this was her paradise, and Draco knew that it was.

Yet, not a single drop of recognition graced her features.

Damn it.

Draco was really starting to get annoyed with this selective memory remembrance thing. The memories that had returned weren't the most important moments of her life. They weren't the happiest. One of them was even the worst. The memories didn't involve her friends. They weren't even that significant. It was always stimulation that made Hermione remember something. The drawing room, Draco talking about Hermione, those stimulated her memory. But why did stimulation work on those memories but not on others? Why did those things return her memory, when the Hogwarts castle didn't? Things wasn't adding up.

Suddenly, a voice broke Draco out of his concentrations.

"Hermione? Hermione Granger?"

It was Madame Pince, the librarian. Of course. Hermione had spent nearly all her waking hours in the library, so naturally Madame Pince would remember her.

The librarian hadn't changed much since the last time Draco had seen her. Wizard robes, dark hair tied up in a bun, piercing eyes, which were now brimmed with tears. She was holding her hand up to her mouth in shock as she looked at her favourite pupil of all time. This was very unusual to Draco. Madame Pince was an irritable woman. Seeing her crying, or showing any emotion other than annoyance was like seeing an elephant tap dance while wearing a fedora.

Hermione must be getting used to this reaction from people, so as Madame Pince cried, the Gryffindor smiled awkwardly, having turned away from the book shelves.

Madame Pince came forward and clasped Hermione's two hands between her own. "Oh child, I read about your reappearance in the paper this morning. I could barely believe it. We were all so sure you were gone. It is lovely to see you again." Madame Pince pulled Hermione into a hug that Hermione returned, albeit quite confusedly.

Draco felt he needed to explain what was going on. "Umm, Madame Pince?"

Madame Pince drew back from Hermione. She turned her eyes toward Draco. "Well, Mr. Malfoy. I'd say I was surprised of your presence, but I'm not. Not after your speech at the funeral. It was quite lovely, by the way."

"Thank you," Draco replied. "I must say, it is lovely to see you again." Draco knew how to be charming when he wanted to be.

Madame Pince smiled. "It's been a long time. What brings you two up to the castle this fine day?"

She had turned to Hermione, expecting the cleverest witch of their age to have the answers. Hermione wordlessly gestured to Draco. Madame Pince now looked confused.

"Well, Madame Pince," Draco started. "To state things simply, when Hermione disappeared, her memory was wiped. However, over the past few weeks, a couple of her memories have reappeared due to stimulation. We had hoped Hogwarts would give enough stimulation to help return more of her memories. At the moment though, she has no idea who you are."

Madame Pince had become a little pale, but she nodded none the less. "I understand Mr. Malfoy." Turning to Hermione, she introduced herself. Hermione nodded, taking everything in.

"Madame Pince?" Draco asked. "Do you happen to have any books on memory spells?" Madame Pince nodded, and waved her arm. A giant book came flying towards them from the back of the library. It landed on a desk right in front of him.

"Madame Pince, if you don't mind, could you tell Hermione about Hogwarts and her time here? I'd like to research something quickly."

The librarian nodded. She brought Hermione up to the checkout counter, and the two began to converse quietly. Well, Madame Pince began to converse.

Draco read the cover of the book. _Remembering the forgotten: a guide to memory charms and all their aspects. _Perfect. He opened the book, and began to skim through the pages, looking for a specific section.

This whole idea of stimulation was really starting to bother Draco. There was something off about it. What stimulated Hermione's memory wasn't what he had expected to. The drawing room, maybe, but why would Draco talking about her stimulate her memory, when Potter didn't. The memories she was getting back weren't defining moments in her life. So why was she getting them back?

Not to mention, stimulation never really jogged someone's memory once they had a memory charm cast upon them. Kingsley had said that it happened rarely, but the truth was, it hardly ever happened at all. The only way to get someone's memory back was to have the caster return the memories. So why was stimulation working for Hermione, sort of?

Draco's eyes skimmed through the pages. He wanted an explanation. Something that explained why Hermione's memory was the way it was.

Finally, a certain passage caught his eye. Leaning over the book, he began to read it thoroughly.

_There is a charm that is similar to a memory charm. It is known as a memory block (for detailed instructions on how to perform the memory block, see page. 394). The memory block is a sort of memory protector. It is similar to occlumency in the way that it protects a person's memory from outside intrusion. However, the memories become so protected that not even the person themself can locate them. If you cast a memory block on yourself, you will not be able to access those memories, or even remember that they exist._

_The memory block is used when you want to protect memories for sentimental value, you don't want anyone to be able to access them, or you have hope that they will return one day, even if your other memories don't._

_The memory block is only used in extreme cases, when protecting your memories is the only option, for example, when someone is about to cast a memory charm on you. It is very difficult to protect all of your memories when casting a memory block given that you usually have little to no warning when someone is going to cast a memory charm on you._

_The shield of the memory block is slightly permeable. That way, if you are put in the same situations or places that your blocked memories were, it is possible for some of your protected memories to return. However, removing the memory block is very difficult. The most simple way to reverse a memory block is to cast the counter charm (see page 394). However, only the caster of a memory block charm can reverse it. Given that memory blocks are only used in extreme situations when the rest of your memory is at stake, most casters of a memory block charm have forgotten they have the block. You cannot tell someone they have a memory block and have them reverse the charm. To be able to reverse it, they must remember making the conscious decision of putting the memory block on themselves. _

Draco looked up from the book. His heart was pounding. Rapidly, he flipped through the pages until he got to the checkout card. He skimmed over who had checked out the book in the history of man. There, halfway down the card was the name he was looking for.

_Hermione Granger September 1993_

Hermione had checked this book out in September of their third year. That was nearly five years before her disappearance, but Hermione Granger had never forgotten a single thing she had read, nor had she ever simply skimmed through a book.

Hermione had known about the memory block. She had known how to cast it, and she had known when to cast it. If Hermione knew that her kidnappers were going to cast a memory charm on her, she would've probably cast the memory block on herself.

This explained everything. Why stimulation worked, and why only some memories came back. The other memories didn't exist anymore. Hermione hadn't had enough time between knowing she was going to get her memory erased and getting her memory erased to protect all of her memories. She had to pick and choose. So what had she chosen to protect?

No matter what, this made one thing clear. Stimulation couldn't get all her memories back. Stimulation probably couldn't get all of her protected memories back either. The only way to get magical Hermione back was to find out who had kidnapped her in the first place. They and they alone had access to Hermione's memories, and they alone had the capacity to return them.

Draco had made a giant crack in the case, but he felt farther away from the answer than ever. But, at least he had discovered something. Draco took out his wand and quickly made a copy of the page on memory blocks.

He stood up and walked towards the checkout counter. Madame Pince and Hermione seemed to be having a compelling conversation. The topic was books. Of course. Draco gave a short laugh. A lot of things never changed.

"Madame Pince?" Draco interrupted. The librarian looked up. "Do you have a piece of parchment anywhere?"

She nodded and reached behind the counter. She gave Draco a piece of parchment, a quill and some ink. Draco quickly scrawled down a message for Kingsley.

_Read this page. I found the answer. There's nothing Hogwarts can do for her right now. We'll finish the visit for old time's sake. Contact us when you have a next step. I'll take care of her until then._

_-DM_

Hermione looked at him. "What's up?"

"I found something," he answered vaguely. Madame Pince raised her eyebrows. He smiled at her with as much charm as he could manage.

"We should be heading off, Madame Pince. We have a lot of the castle to tour."

Madame Pince nodded. Turning to Hermione, she said, "I've missed you, child. I am so happy you've returned." With this, she pulled Hermione into a hug. As soon as the librarian had released her, Draco grabbed Hermione's hand and led her out of the library.

Hermione stopped him as soon as the wooden doors had closed behind them.

"What did you find?"

Draco gestured towards an open door nearby. It was the charms classroom. However, the door was open, so Flitwick probably wasn't teaching at the moment.

Once they were safely in the classroom, Draco shut the door. He turned back to Hermione, who had chosen to sit on a desk.

"Why are we suddenly in a classroom?"

"Because I can't remember when class ends and I don't want to risk the chance of suddenly being overrun with children."

She nodded. "Fair enough. So what did you find?"

Draco took a deep breath, and explained to her what he had found.

A few minutes later, she was staring at him, dumbfounded.

"I managed to protect some of my memories?"

Draco nodded.

"Which memories were protected?"

Draco shrugged. "We only know two of them."

"Well, what's the pattern?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Pattern?"

Hermione gave him a look that was slightly patronizing. "Well, I know me. I wouldn't have just kept random memories. Each memory I kept had a reason for it being kept. So I'm wondering, do we know what's similar between the memories I protected. They must have been important if I chose to remember them instead of my two best friends."

Draco shrugged. "Maybe you just really like rewatching that day you punched me in the face."

Hermione chuckled. "Possibly, but I feel like there's something more. I can think on my feet really well. So even if I only had a couple of seconds to cast the spell, I wouldn't have just picked random memories to protect."

"Valid point," Draco said. What was the connection between the memories that had returned?

A sudden noise interrupted his thoughts. Some of the books had fallen off a shelf at the back of the class. Hermione shrugged like it was a coincidence, but Draco knew better, and he knew what was about to happen.

A cackle filled the air. Goddamnit.

"Well, looky looky. It's the Malfoy boy. Been a long time since you've been here. And with Potty's friend? Let's have some fun with Ferret and Grangy!

"Peeves," Draco muttered.

The poltergeist appeared in the middle of the classroom, and then proceeded to bounce around the room. He looked as he always had, a little man with the face of the devil.

Hermione looked slightly amused as she watched the poltergeist bounce around the room. Draco, however, was slightly nervous. He and Hermione were at Hogwarts without disguises, and if it became known to the general population that they were there, they would be overrun. Also, the Daily Prophet would get some new photos to publish.

Peeves could blow their cover in a moment.

"Oh Peeves," Draco said, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's been a while, eh? Still wreaking havoc?"

Peeves stopped bouncing and gave a mock bow to the Slytherin. "Why yes Sir. Wreaking havoc is Peeves' favourite thing to do."

Draco gave a slight chuckle. "Always."

Peeves bounded around the room some more, cackling at the top of his lungs.

"Now, what's Potty's friend and the Malfoy boy doing? I heard about you two, today. Word is Grangy has been missing, and's back now. Exciting fun shenanigans. Peeves is sure the rest of the school would love to know you're here."

Draco tried to say something to dissuade Peeves from spreading their location to the rest of the school, but at that exact moment, the door to the classroom opened.

Before Draco knew what was happening, Peeves had zoomed out of the room, singing at the top of his lungs.

_Grangy's here!_

_Nothing to fear!_

_Malfoy arrived!_

_And Grangy's alive!_

"Those really are atrocious lyrics," Hermione muttered.

Draco tried to laugh, but at the exact moment, he made eye contact with a very confused Flitwick, who had just entered his classroom.

The charms professor looked at him, then Hermione, and muttered something unknown to himself.

"Hello professor," Draco said.

Flitwick smiled at the two of them, but mainly at Hermione. With that smile still on his face, he spoke.

"Welcome home, you two."

**Review guys. See you soon. :)**

**Edited 2013/07/06**


	26. Chapter 26

**Hey guys! I hit 300 reviews last chapter! That is insane. I never imagined that. I also hit 350 followers and 175 favourites. You guys are so awesome I can't even put it into words.**

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Draco and Hermione only had a quick conversation with Flitwick, which mainly consisted of him welcoming them back. They bade the Charms master farewell and left to tour the castle once more. Flitwick had informed them that they still had time: classes didn't end for another half hour. They ended at two.

Draco recognized how lucky they were that it was class time. It made travelling through the halls much simpler. Draco knew that the entire school was aware of their presence by now, but right now, all the curious eyes were stuck in class.

Draco started heading up to the seventh floor, Hermione trailing behind him. He wanted to show Hermione the Gryffindor common room. Draco knew where the Gryffindor common room was, unlike many Slytherins. Near the end of his fifth year, he had met up with a Gryffindor there for a late night…..rendezvous.

He thought maybe Hermione might've protected some of her memories from there. He would've. Some of the most simple and amazing memories of his life had happened in his common room.

However, as Draco led Hermione through the corridors and up the stairs to the seventh floor, he thought of something.

They didn't have the password for the Fat Lady. Damn it. She would never let them in without it. Draco remembered that in their third year, Sirius Black had threatened her at knife point, and she still wouldn't let him in without a password.

As the two of them walked through the halls, Draco tried to think of a solution to this problem. However, nothing came to him.

They arrived at the final staircase. They climbed it quickly, and arrived at the landing which held the fat lady. She wasn't doing anything and quickly noticed their presence.

Her mouth fell open with a pop. Her skin grew porceline white as she gaped. Draco nearly rolled his eyes; he was getting really tired of dropped jaws.

"Hermione Granger?" she asked with a gasp.

Hermione, in the meantime was looking at the fat lady with a look of complete disbelief. Besides the fact that she had no idea who this person was, she probably was wondering why a painting was talking to her in the first place.

Draco just interrupted there and then. He should've just started to talk immediately.

"Hey!" said Draco awkwardly. Then he remembered that he had no idea how to get into the Gryffindor common room.

Draco had just restarted pondering over the various ways he could get into the common room, when a voice sounded out from behind them.

"Hermione? Draco? Is it really you two?"

Draco turned, and for the first time in his life, wasn't annoyed that Neville Longbottom had arrived.

Draco had a vague remembrance of hearing that Longbottom had taken up the position of Herbology professor when Sprout had retired. He couldn't believe that he had forgotten. Longbottom and Hermione had been close during their Hogwarts years. Hermione had been fiercely protective of him, and every time that Draco had mocked the boy, Hermione had come close to cursing his head off.

Thank Merlin she never actually had.

Longbottom sure looked different than he had back in the Hogwarts days. Puberty had been kind to him, so to speak. Back then he had been slightly chubby, with crooked teeth and a derpy smile. Now, he was tall and muscular, with windswept brown hair and a smile that made women everywhere faint. There was a reason he was Witch Weekly's most eligible bachelor, (though rumours about him and Hannah Abbott were rampant). Another big factor in Longbottom's transformation was his killer confidence that he had acquired in their last few years of Hogwarts. Women found confidence incredibly attractive.

At the moment, Longbottom was standing on the landing below them. He was smiling and blinking quickly. Then, so quickly Draco nearly missed it, Longbottom bounded up the stairs and pulled Hermione into a giant bear hug. He proceeded to cling to her, while chocking on sobs.

Longbottom was clinging to Hermione as if his life depended on it. Hermione was just hugging him, telling him it was alright as he cried out in joy. Draco felt his insides contract in jealousy like they had earlier that day with Seamus. But this time, he ignored it. He needed to ignore it. So instead of beating him up and getting mad, Draco smiled softly and leaned backwards into a banister. He just watched.

Draco knew how incredible Hermione was. Yet, time after time, he found himself amazed that she was able to draw this reaction from people. The tears, the dropped jaws, the exultant expressions, that was all Hermione.

Draco used to tease Hermione back at Hogwarts. He'd say no one would ever like her, no one would ever want her. He could not have been more wrong.

Everyone loved Hermione. The entire wizarding world loved this girl. And why wouldn't they? She was perfect.

After the war, it had seemed to Draco that the entire wizarding world had paled in colour. There wasn't as much joy in the air as there had been pre-war. Draco had thought it was just the aftermath of the battles, the loses, and the destruction that was causing the depression. That was very logical. Wars tend to do that. Now, he was thinking maybe it was something different.

Maybe Hermione was the reason a slight depression had fallen over the wizarding world for the last seven years. It definitely was for all those who were close to her: Potter, Weasel, Weaslette among others. But for the rest of the world, they had lost one of the major war heroines. It had happened after the war was finished, when they thought they were safe again. Maybe it reignited the fear?

Or maybe it was because the wizarding world looked to Potter for guidance. After Hermione had disappeared, Potter had nearly lost it. In his eyes there was only loss, no more courage, no more strength. The wizarding world watched Potter like a hawk, they must've noticed. Seeing their hero broken must've broken some of the spirit of the world as well.

Hermione, even back then, didn't know how much of an effect she had on this world. Even the people who didn't know her personally were affected by her disappearance, because of Potter's love for her. It was incredible how many people could be affected by some person.

But then again, Hermione wasn't just some person.

Longbottom finally pulled back. His face was tear streaked. Hermione reached up and wiped one of the tears away. Longbottom grabbed her hand and held it against his cheek, smiling. Hermione smiled in return.

Here comes the jealousy.

Neville let go of Hermione's hand and took a step back. He then held out his hand. Hermione took it.

"Hello Hermione, my name is Neville Longbottom," he said whilst shaking her hand.

"Wait a second," Draco but in. He was confused. "Why did you introduce yourself?"

Longbottom turned to him, rather reluctantly, but answered none the less. "Doesn't she have absolutely no idea who I am?"

Draco nodded, still confused. "Yep, but how do you know that? I thought that wasn't public information."

Longbottom laughed. "I'm not the mere public, Malfoy. Harry told me this morning. He told Luna as well. Hermione and I were really close, and if you've forgotten, I played a moderate part in the final battle."

Draco sighed. Who care if Longbottom knew? Draco was probably going to explain it to him anyway. As long as the general public didn't find out, they were fine.

"So Malfoy, Hermione," Longbottom continued. "How's your tour of Hogwarts going? Harry told me, but I'm pretty sure he said you were coming tomorrow. If I knew it was today, I would've brought a cake or something."

"It was going to be tomorrow, but I decided today was better," Draco shrugged. He didn't want to explain about how the manor was suffocating him.

"Fair enough," Longbottom said. He quickly snuck a look at his watch. "You guys have five minutes until class finishes. I don't know if you heard but Peeves….."

"Yeah, we heard Peeves," Draco interrupted. China probably heard Peeves.

"Well, yeah. But the whole school knows you're here. You might be mobbed."

Draco nodded absentmindedly. That was all nice, but they still needed to figure out how to get into the Gryffindor common room…

"Hey!" Draco exclaimed. Why hadn't he thought of this sooner? "Longbottom, could you get us into the common room?" All the teachers had the passwords, he'd forgotten.

"Yeah sure." Longbottom walked up to the fat lady and said, "Heroine Hermione." The portrait swung open.

Longbottom turned to them while Draco gaped. "It's the new password for today," the professor explained. Cool.

Longbottom checked his watch once more and swore. "I have to go to a meeting, so I'll leave you two here." Turning to Hermione, he finished. "I've missed you Hermione. I hope you remember why." With that, Neville Longbottom walked down a flight of stairs, and left Hermione and Draco on the landing.

Draco took Hermione's hand and led her through the portrait hole. And for the first time in seven years, Hermione entered the Gryffindor common room.

There were a couple of Gryffindors inside who were just hanging out. But as soon as they saw him and Hermione enter, they scrammed up to the door rooms. Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to deal with teenagers at the moment.

The Gryffindor room looked…scarlett. Everything was scarlett. The chairs, the walls, the carpet. Everything. Draco didn't really care about the common room though. He was looking at Hermione.

The Gryffindor princess spun in a circle, taking everything in. When she finally looked back at Draco, standing by the entrance, she said, "It looks really cosy. But I don't remember anything."

Draco huffed. He was fed up. This selective memory thing was a pain in his ass. And to save his life, he couldn't figure out what Hermione had protected with the memory block. None of the memories had one single thing in common.

Suddenly, a shrill ring filled the air. Fuck. Classes were over. This means the students were walking around. In other news, they were going to be mobbed. Double fuck. But, suddenly, Draco got a genius and stupid plan. He smiled and turned to Hermione.

"Alright, Hermione," he explained quickly. "We are going to be mobbed. There is no chance of being inconspicuous. So, we are going to do the opposite. We are going to be conspicuous. Take my hand, and follow my lead."

This had to be the stupidest idea he had ever had. But, he had no other option. So, he took Hermione's hand, exited the common room, and ran through the halls screaming at the top of his lungs.

Now, this idea was not only stupid, but genius as well. They were running so fast that no one, even though there were a lot of people, could really see them well. They were screaming so loudly that everyone was too confused to chase after them. Genius.

So they ran and screamed until they made it to the grounds. Nobody followed them, and no one had the time to mob them. They ran across the suspension bridge (which had been rebuilt after Seamus had blown it up) and they ran down the sloped hill until they stopped near Hagrid's hut.

Which is when Draco realised he was an idiot.

It was still during a school day, and as much as it disturbed Draco, Hagrid was a professor. Which meant that Hagrid's hut was basically a classroom. Which meant that there were thirty students standing in front of his hut, gaping madly at Hermione and Draco as they fought to catch their breath.

However, before any of the students had a second to react, a voice boomed out from behind them. "You kids best be gettin' to the paddock. Best be leaving business here."

Hagrid looked exactly as he had seven years prior; the last time Draco had seen him. Ginormous, hairy, with beetle eyes and a gigantic smile on his face.

As his students moped away, looking back regretfully at the scene they were missing, Hagrid turned and blocked Hermione and Draco from their view.

"Hermione an' Draco, welcome back. Hermione, name's Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts. Also, professor for care o' magical creatures."

Draco started. "Potter fill you in?"

Hagrid shook his head. "Mcgonagall. She trusts me with stuff, like Dumbledore did," Draco shifted guiltily. "She sent me a letter earlier, fillin' me in. Hermione's memory's wiped. Death eaters involved. Only has a couple memories, Draco you found her in Canada. At Hogwarts tryna' stimulate some memories. How's that going by the way?"

"Not well," Draco replied morosely, as he watched a beetle crawl away on the ground.

Hagrid reached out and clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll get there. I'd love to stay an' chat, but them kids need me for class. Good luck." He pulled Hermione into a back breaking hug, set her down, and lumbered away to his class.

Draco turned to look at Hermione. She was standing there shell shocked. It probably had to do with the giant man who had just picked her up and hugged her. Draco chuckled. Hermione was just looking confused.

"Come on, Hermione," Draco laughed. "Let's go walking."

Draco clasped Hermione's hand and began to lead her around the Hogwarts grounds. He didn't have much hope in the memory stimulation left, so he was simply going to enjoy his day with Hermione.

The Hogwarts grounds, in the early afternoon sun, were beautiful. The black lake was twinkling, and the giant squid occasionally bounced up to the surface to splash about. The trees of the Forbidden forest were swaying back and forth in the breeze. Draco could see thestrals flying low over the trees, their hooves skimming the tops. Owls were swooping in and out of the owlery. There were a few students lounging under a willow by the lake, but other than that, the grounds were empty. Draco was fine with that. He wanted some time alone with her.

They walked around the grounds, chatting away simply. Draco kept on pointing out different sites, telling her the stories that went along with them. She listened with interest, and then gave her own take on what had happened. Their interaction reminded Draco of his time with Hermione back in Canada: simply, sincere, and happy.

Even with her lack of memory looming over them, Draco couldn't help enjoying the day. It was Hermione, after all. Enjoyment was easy when it came to her.

After about an hour and a half of wandering, (they had taken a break by the lake), they found themselves at the entrance to the Quidditch pitch. It was late-afternoon, so no one was using the pitch. The pitch was usually used during the evening or early morning.

Draco and Hermione found themselves in a room below the stands. They were looking around when Draco got an idea.

"Wait here a second," he said to Hermione, as he rushed to a nearby cupboard. Draco opened the cupboard door and pulled out a nimbus 2001. After the battle of Hogwarts, the nimbus corporation had donated thirty nimbuses to the school to help with reconstruction. All the old cleansweeps had been torched by death eaters. Bastards.

He grasped the broom and walked back over to Hermione. She was eyeing the nimbus with apprehension. Draco smirked. He knew Hermione wasn't a big flyer, but oh well. Sometimes, you just needed a good teacher.

"Why do you have a broom?" she asked nervously. Draco smirked and ran a hand through his hair.

"Do you trust me?" he asked softly. Hermione eyed him for a moment before answering.

"Always," she said softly, her voice sure and sincere. Draco's heart smiled, and he reached out to take her hand. She took it without thought, even though she did look a little nervous.

Draco led her out onto the pitch. A gust of wind blew through both their hair. It gave Draco a shock of excitement. He was on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. He was really home now.

Draco set the broom in the air. There it floated, bouncing up and down slowly. He took Hermione's hand and led her over. He swung a leg over the broom and motioned at her to do the same. She looked scared, but she copied him. She wrapped her arms around his waist while he grasped the handle.

"You ready for this?" he asked her. He turned his head around to face her. Her chin was resting on his shoulder. Their faces were inches apart when she responded.

"With you, I'm ready for anything," she whispered. Draco's heart skipped a beat.

Turning forward, he kicked off from the ground.

They say you've never known true happiness until you've flied a broom. Draco can testify to that. He laughed wildly as they zipped around the pitch. Hermione had tightened her grip on his waist, but she was laughing as well. Whether it was in joy or terror, he didn't know. The wind rushed through their hair as he flew them higher and higher.

"This is incredible!" Hermione shouted. Draco laughed.

"Glad you're enjoying it," he responded, as he dived down. They were gaining speed. Hermione screamed as Draco pulled up and headed back up towards the sky. He flew over the Quidditch stands and towards the lake. He dropped down low enough that Hermione could skim her hand across the surface. Draco could see her reflection in the lake: she was elated.

Draco laughed. He felt completely and utterly free. With Hermione's arms wrapped around his waist and the wind in his hair as he flew through Hogwarts, he was liberated. He was estatic. This was paradise.

He flew up above the lake and sped towards the Hogwarts castle. He felt Hermione's grip tighten.

He sped around all the turrets, under the bridges, and above the towers. He flew through the courtyards, where several students looked up in terror. He flew by the headmistress's office, where he saw Mcgonagall look up in amusement at them. He flew around Gryffindor tower, up to the astronomy tower and down over the viaduct. He flew by the windows of the library. He flew over the Transfiguration courtyard. He flew by the Herbology greenhouses, where Longbottom was teaching a lesson. He flew around the castle once more, Hermione laughing behind him. Then, he flew back towards the Quidditch pitch, finally landing them in the middle of the field.

Hermione stepped shakily off the broom, and burst out laughing. She staggered around for a moment before standing up straight. "That was amazing!" she exclaimed.

Draco laughed as well. Flying was exhilarating, that's for sure. "That's your opinion?" he asked

Hermione smiled for a moment, completely happy, but suddenly her expression changed to a different emotion . Her smile dropped, and her eyes widened.

"Hermione?" Draco asked worriedly. But his voice didn't seem to reach her. It was as if she was seeing something that wasn't there at all. Draco's heart stopped and he realized. She was seeing something that wasn't there at the moment, but had been once.

A memory.

Draco stood back in agony and he watched Hermione watch whatever memory had chosen to return. It seemed to go on forever. But suddenly, Hermione returned, and she met Draco's eyes.

"What's a mudblood?" she asked confusedly.

Draco froze on the spot. He couldn't move a muscle. The word began to bounce around his head. Mudblood. Mudblood. Mudblood. He knew immediately what day she had remembered.

It was Draco's first practice as the Slytherin Seeker. Snape had given them the pitch to practice, but Gryffindor had booked it. This resulted in an argument between to two rival teams. To show them who was superior, Draco had bragged that his father had bought them all nimbus 2001s. Hermione, who and shown up with the Weasel, had said something like, "at least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent." And Draco, for the first time, but certainly not the last, had called her a mudblood.

Thinking about that day now, Draco would give anything to take it back. That term was demeaning, disgusting, and he had actually thought it was acceptable to use. He thought that muggleborns deserved to be called that terrible word. He thought that their blood was really disgusting like mud. But, he had seen enough blood spilled in the years afterwards to know that all blood was the same. That term was meaningless, but so terrible. And he had actually called a twelve year old year that. He shuddered in guilt every time he thought about it.

And now Hermione remembered.

Fuck his life.

He swallowed hard and answered. "It's a degrading term for someone with non-magic parents."

Hermione looked at him straight. "You called me that."

Draco sighed. "I know."

Hermione just looked confused. "Why?"

Draco opened his mouth but no sound escaped it. Hermione eyed him, but took a step forward.

"Why did you call me that, Draco? It obviously was a terrible thing to say. I understand that we didn't get along. I understand that you sat by and watched me get tortured. But that was to save yourself. You had nothing to gain from calling me that word. Nothing at all. So why did you say it?"

"Because I wanted power," Draco interrupted. Hermione's eyes widened. Draco sighed. She deserved the truth. "At home, I felt powerless. My father was a bastard, there's no other way to explain it. When I got to Hogwarts, I became a bully to feel powerful. Then I met you. You were a muggleborn, in my mind you were supposed to be weak. But you weren't. You were strong. And it angered me. How could you be so strong, when I was the pureblood? It was wrong. So I used that word. I used it to weaken you, and strengthen me. And it worked. I felt powerful. Until I thought about it. I wasn't powerful at all. I was weak, who used a mean word to feel superior. Mudblood. What does that even mean? Nothing. It means nothing. Nothing at all. And, like everything in my life, I realize that way too late. I'm so sorry. So very sorry. I'm just a coward, Hermione."

Hermione, throughout his monologue, listened intensely. By the end, her eyes were widened in shock. He didn't know why, but he always spilled his soul out to Hermione. He felt naked. Scratch that. He would be more comfortable if he was naked. He was more comfortable with his body than his emotions. And yet, where Hermione was concerned, he laid them all out for her to see.

Hermione took a couple of steps forward, so that she was standing directly in front of him. She then took his face in her hands, slowly yet surely. Her hands were soft and warm. Draco was sure his face was in flames. Hermione looked him directly in the eye when she spoke. Her voice was steady.

"You are NOT a coward," she whispered. "You are the bravest man I've ever known." Then, without a second of hesitation, she brought his lips down onto hers.

Draco stood there in shock. Hermione Granger was kissing him. Again. Old Draco would've pushed her off in disgust. But, then again, he wasn't the old Draco.

Without resistance, he wrapped his arms around her while she wrapped hers around his neck. Her lips were warm and sure. Draco kissed her back with enthusiasm, pulling her as close as they could be without being naked, which Draco wouldn't particularily mind. The passion was building between them.

Who was he kidding? The passion had been building between them since Canada. Maybe even before then. Draco had just been ignoring it. Looking at Hermione had made his mouth dry since the Yule Ball. Stopping himself from acting on it was like pulling an elastic to its breaking point. The more you pull it, the more it snaps back. And when it finally breaks, everything happened so fast and so fully.

This was the elastic snapping back.

Draco and Hermione were devouring each other, making each other really feel the passion, as if they couldn't feel it before. Draco was surprised they hadn't burst into flame yet.

Hermione suddenly jumped up and wrapped her legs around Draco's waist, holding herself there. She was so light that Draco barely had to hold her up. Instead, Draco's hand moved to her back.

Draco's hands ripped through the fabric of her robes, trying to get as close as possible. They were now on the bare skin of her back. He was pushing her into him and they devoured each other. It was as though magic was forcing them together: a magnetic pull. Hermione reached her hands and ripped open his robes. Her hands felt every inch of his chest. Draco had no problem with this.

Draco had lost track of time. With Hermione wrapped around him like this, he didn't really care. They could've been out there for decades and Draco wouldn't have minded or noticed.

However, they were almost past pg-13 level. Draco suddenly remembered they were at Hogwarts and they couldn't actually do it on the Quidditch pitch, no matter how hot that would be. It was one of his teenage fantasies. So, it was with regret that he pulled back.

Hermione unwrapped her legs from around his waist and set them back on the ground. Then she looked up at him and smiled. Draco took his hand and put a piece of her hair behind her ear. Merlin, she was beautiful.

Hermione put her head on his chest, and whispered something that Draco couldn't hear. No bother, Draco wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

He had been wrong. Flying around Hogwarts wasn't paradise. This was.

However, Draco was so involved in his paradise that he didn't see a beetle crawling away.

**You know what to do...**


	27. Chapter 27

**Same old, same old. Here we go. **

**Disclaimer: No**

Draco and Hermione stood holding each other for who knows how long. Draco was completely blissful. He didn't know what his relationship with Hermione was, but at the moment, he didn't care. As long as he could keep holding her, he knew everything was going to be ok.

And sometimes, ok was wonderful.

After a while, Draco pulled away from her and took out his wand. Hermione raised an eyebrow, but Draco carried on. He pointed his wand at her robes, and muttered a quick spell. The robes patched themselves up from where Draco had ripped them open. He did the same to himself. Hermione nodded, understanding.

Draco held out his hand. She reached out and took it without hesitation. They turned and walked across the pitch and back up towards the castle. They didn't exchange any conversation. They didn't need to. They just enjoyed themselves.

Draco was very happy, but he knew from experience that it didn't usually last. And soon enough, Draco felt worry clawing at his stomach. There was something new to worry about.

Hermione had remembered yet another memory. And yet again, it wasn't a good one.

The drawing room, punching him in the face, the first time he had called her mudblood, why had Hermione chosen to protect these memories? They weren't good memories, they weren't important; they weren't even big parts of her life. And they had nothing in common. Why was Hermione such mystery? Both now and then.

Draco snuck a glance at her. She was staring lazily at the castle looming above them. What was she thinking? Draco wondered. About Hogwarts, about this world, and about him. What did he mean to her? And would it last once they got her memories back? Draco felt like it might: she knew about the drawing room and still would be in his presence. Maybe she'd still like him afterwards.

But then again, he'd been wrong before.

Hermione and Draco arrived at the entrance courtyard of Hogwarts. It was early evening by then.

Draco quickly thought over their next plan of action. "We need to get to Mcgonagall. Kingsley might've contacted her."

Hermione nodded. "Where is she?"

Draco shrugged. "What time is it?"

Hermione pointed up to the clock tower. 5:30. Fuck. Draco laughed humourlessly.

"What's so funny?" Hermione asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. "We've put so much effort into not being mobbed today, and our only option to get to Mcgonagall is to storm into the Great Hall during dinner time. Of course. Only us."

Hermione chuckled. "Well, you are one for dramatics. But surely, this can't be our only option."

Draco glared at the ground. "It probably isn't. But I'm too tired to figure out a better option right now. So this is what we're going with."

Hermione laughed. "Well, I'll follow you anywhere."

Draco started. He looked at her intensely. "Do you mean that?"

She nodded. "You know I do. Who else could I follow? You brought me back. I still don't remember squat, but thank you. I know it would mean a lot to old me."

Draco shook his head. "There is no old you. There is no magical you. There is no muggle you. Sure, you're different in different situations than you would be with your memory. But there is only you, Hermione. There has only ever been you."

For Draco had finally realized something incredible. In the last few weeks, he had seen Hermione in tons of different ways. There was magical Hermione, muggle Hermione, Potter's Hermione, his Hermione and the Hermione standing before him. There was no difference between them. Draco had thought earlier that being in the magical world had changed Hermione, made her braver. He had thought that she wasn't like that when she was a muggle. But he was wrong. She was always just Hermione. She was always Hermione Granger, whether it was on the battlefield or in a Tim Hortons on Young. There was no difference. Draco had to stop thinking of all the Hermiones as different. He hadn't fallen for one of them.

He had fallen for all of them, and all of her.

Hermione blinked a few times, and smiled. With that, they walked into the entrance hall. Draco took a deep breath, and opened the doors to the Great Hall.

To say that all eyes turned to them would be a massive understatement. All eyes did turn to them, but all conversation also stopped, and all jaws dropped. Draco saw Hermione visibly stiffen, but he took her hand, and she loosened up. Without making any eye contact with anyone, Draco pulled Hermione up the middle aisle between the two centre tables.

They soon made it up to the high table. Draco saw Professor Flitwick trying not to laugh at their dramatics, while Professor Slughorn had a spoon hanging out of his mouth. Mcgonagall was sitting in the Headmistress' chair, her face disbelieving at their dramatics.

"Was that really necessary?" she hissed as they approached her.

Draco shrugged. "We needed to talk to you. Has Kingsley been in touch?"

Mcgonagall rolled her eyes and nodded reluctantly. She reached into her robes and pulled out a letter. She handed it to Draco, who opened it immediately.

It read:

_Mr. Malfoy,_

_I believe you have found the answer. I cannot believe I didn't think about it before. A memory block seems exactly like something Hermione would do. I want to hear how your Hogwarts visit went, so I ask that you, Miss Granger, and your mother all join the burrow for dinner tonight. If you're not aware, the burrow is the Weasley home. Mr. Potter will be there as well._

_You can apparate over. See you at 6._

_Kingsley Shacklebolt_

Draco pursed his lips. Dinner with the Weasleys. Draco wondered what Kingsley had to do to convince Weasel that this was a good idea. The minister probably just didn't mention it. That was probably safer.

He wondered how many times he was going to be cursed tonight. He'd probably be challenged to a duel the second he set foot on the property. Potter might have his back, but it was doubtful. Draco couldn't see a single way this would work out.

However, he really needed to talk to Kingsley. Potter would want to be involved, and they were all going to be there. Mama Weasley would probably stop her son from trying to decapitate him. And Hermione would want to go. Fuck. There was his decision right there.

Draco was going to dinner with the Weasleys.

"I might join you later on," Mcgonagall said, taking a sip from a chalice. Draco relaxed. Mcgonagall wouldn't let anyone decapitate him.

"Alright. It's about five thirty now, so we should head home and collect my mother," Draco summarized. He appreciated that Kingsley had invited his mother. She'd like that.

"Well then, Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger, thank you for visiting Hogwarts. I hope the visit helped," Mcgonagall said, eyeing Hermione.

"It did, Professor," Hermione answered, smiling. So polite. She turned to Draco. "Are we going now?"

"In a minute," he replied, an idea forming in his head. "I just need to do something." With that Draco turned around and faced the one thousand students still gaping at them.

"Students of Hogwarts!" Draco addressed the crowd. Why was he doing this? "My name is Draco Malfoy, and this is Hermione Granger. I am sure you have heard of us. I'm sure you read about us this morning in the paper. I went to Hogwarts, I know how fast information travels in the school. However, gaping is not only rude, but pointless. When spying/observing people, you do not gape. You watch out of the corner of your eye. You stalk by hiding behind posts. You do not stand in the middle of a courtyard watching. That is pointless. So, children. Next time you have an opportunity to stalk people, be more subtle about it."

With that, Draco tightened his grip on Hermione and walked back down the aisle. Hundreds of students were still gaping at them. Oh well. They will learn.

When they reached the door, Draco turned once more to address the crowd.

"And to whoever put the gnomes in all the girls' lavatories, well done. Well done indeed."

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione and Draco arrived back at the manor. They quickly hurried up the grounds and into the manor. They then ran to the library, where Narcissa was reading.

She looked up as they ran in.

"How was Hogwarts?"

Draco smiled at his mother. "It was….fun. We did some exploring, met up with some old friends. We talked to Mcgonagall. And then we got invited to the Weasleys for dinner."

Narcissa raised her eyebrows. "The Weasleys invited you to dinner? Good luck, my son."

Draco snorted. "Not just us. You as well."

Narcissa looked stricken, but composed herself quickly. She stood up and smoothed down her robes. "Well, we are civilized people, and when someone invites us to dinner. We accept graciously." Draco almost laughed.

Hermione turned to Draco. "Could I put on some jeans or something?" Draco shrugged, and whipped out his wand. He quickly transfigured her robes into a pair of jeans, with a green tank top and converse. Hermione smiled her thanks.

Draco then pointed his wand at himself and transfigured his robes into a pair of jeans and a black t shirt.

His mother transfigured her robes into a dark green dress. She looked at them all.

"I don't think today's a day for wizard robes." They all nodded in agreement.

"Oh!" Narcissa suddenly exclaimed. "I was making cookies this afternoon. I should bring them for the Weasleys, as a sort of, peace offering."

Draco nodded. This was a good idea.

Together, they walked down to the kitchen to collect Narcissa's cookies. Draco couldn't believe the situation they were about to willingly walk into. They were going to the Weasleys', when they all were aware that the Weasley's hated the Malfoys. This went way back as well: their ancestors had been enemies as well. Weasel wanted Draco's head on a stick. And yet, they were happily going to dinner with them.

They were even bringing cookies.

Draco was only doing this because he needed to talk to Kingsley. And Potter. He probably should talk to Potter as well. This memory block concept changed everything. They needed to figure out who had taken Hermione's memories. It was the only option they had left. It would take everything they've got, but it had to be done. It was for Hermione.

They arrived at the kitchen and Narcissa picked up her cookies. His mother put them in a box and turned back towards him and Hermione. She reached out her hand. Draco took it, while Hermione clasped his other hand.

"To the burrow," Narcissa said. With that, they apparated away.

They landed in a field filled with barley. He blinked a few times and noticed a house like structure a hundred metres away. It was sort of like a pigsty, with random rooms and floors added. Draco had seen a picture of this house once before in his life, but he had never actually been here.

So this was the Burrow.

Draco, Hermione and Narcissa walked up towards the burrow. In the yard outside the "house", there seemed to be some commotion going. As Draco walked closer, he began to understand.

The Weasel and his mother were going at it, while the rest of the Weasley clan, Potter, and Kingsley watched. Weasel and Mama were screaming, and Draco didn't need the confirmation to know what they were arguing about.

Him.

"Ronald, you are being a baby!" Mama shouted.

"Why the fuck are we allowing him into our home?! Our home!" The weasel responded.

"Draco has proved himself to us! If you don't believe me, I would hope that you believe Kingsley, and Harry!"

"He could have defeated Voldemort himself and I still wouldn't trust him! Why are we allowing him into our lives? What could he possibly be able to offer us?!"

"Well, Weasel," Draco said, strutting into the yard with Hermione and his mother. "I offer you sense, optimism and knowledge. Also, my mom brought cookies."

Before Weasel had a chance to respond, Mama Weasel had pushed him aside ad walked up to them with her arms spread wide. She pulled all three of them into a group hugs.

"Welcome to our home," she said, with a twinkle in her eye. Her eyes turned to Hermione first. "My darling, I've missed you so much. My name's Molly, and I still think of you as a daughter. I'm Ron's mother."

"Hello Molly," Hermione said, smiling.

Mama turned to Draco and Narcissa.

"I have not seen you two in years. Draco, you have turned into a strapping young man. And Narcissa, I don't think I've spoken to you since Hogwarts."

Narcissa smiled. "I don't think so. I've missed you, Molly. I brought cookies."

"You're sweetness," Mama replied, as she pulled Narcissa into a hug. Hmm. Draco had not known Molly and his mother knew each other.

"Hermione!" shouted several voices at once. It was George, older Weasley, and married to a veela Weasley, also known as oldest. They bounded across the lawn and pulled Hermione into a group hug. Draco smirked. While Hermione was getting hugged, Draco turned around and took in who else was there.

Kingsley was leaning on the house, smoking on a long pipe, watching them subtly. Potter was next to him, with his wife latched on to his shoulder. Binny? Finny? Bitchy? He could never remember Weaslette's actual name. Hagrid was standing to one side, having just been in conversation with Papa Weasley and Mcgonagall, who had shown up after all. Looney and Longbottom were sitting at a long table, observing the situation. Fleur, the veela was sitting at the table as well, holding a beautiful toddler in her arms. It had to be her daughter. Fleur was talking to Prissy Weasley. Draco looked around once more. That was everyone.

The Weasleys had let go of Hermione by then. Laughing, Hermione took a couple steps backwards, and turned to him. She held out her hand and Draco took it. Ignoring the shocked looks they got, Draco and Hermione joined the party.

Hermione turned to Draco. "Who are these people?"

Draco smiled. "All the gingers are family members of Weas….Ron. It's the Weasley family. This is their home. The blonde at the table is the wife of one of the Weasleys. Potter you know. Potter's ginger wife you know. Hagrid you know. Kingsley you know. The blonde talking to the Longbottom is named Luna. Don't get into a conversation with her about nargles. And yeah. Hermione, for all intents and purposes, this is your family."

Hermione smiled. "I spent time here?"

Draco looked around at this place that he would've never stepped foot in before. "All the time."

As Draco tried to decide who to talk to first, Mama Weasley walked out of the house, where she had been with Narcissa. She called out, in a booming voice:

"Supper! To the table!"

They all filed to the table quickly. Hermione ended up at the head of the table, with Draco on her right, and Potter on her left. Mama Weasley walked around the table and filled every glass with Ogden's Best Firewhisky. When she finally sat down, at the other head of the table, she picked up her glass to make a toast.

"To Hermione Granger: a spectacular witch, and an amazing woman. Everybody here thinks of you in a different way, but whether it be as a friend, sister, or daughter, you are loved. We are so happy that we have found you."

At this, Looney spoke.

"After all, the things we lose always find a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect." Looney raised her glass, and everyone followed.

Hermione blushed and looked down at her plate. Almost immediately, piles of food began flying out of the house and landed on the table. Everyone grabbed something and started passing the food around.

"So Draco," Kingsley asked, as he handed Mama Weasley a plate of bread rolls. "How was your trip to Hogwarts today?" The second those words exited the minister's mouth, everyone at the table turned and looked at Draco.

"Umm," Draco said, floundering. What could he tell them that didn't involve passionate make out sessions? "Well, it was good. It was good."

"Good?" Potter said, raising his eyebrows. "Do share."

Well fuck. "We…ummmmm….."

"Well, Draco showed me around the school," Hermione interrupted, taking a piece of chicken. "We went through the corridors, we went to the library, where we met Madame Pince. We went to the, what was it? Oh yes, the Gryffindor common room. Then we ran through the halls screaming and went to the Quidditch pitch. That's about it."

There was a stunned silence that followed Hermione's monologue. Draco rolled his eyes. These people probably thought that her ability to speak disappeared with her memory.

Potter laughed and turned his full attention to Hermione. "Ran through the halls screaming?"

Hermione chuckled, and burst into the story. All eyes were on her. Draco didn't have to participate, and frankly, who wanted him to?

So instead, he leant back and watched Hermione work her figurative magic.

It was incredible. Seven years had passed, and yet, especially with Hermione and Potter, nothing had changed. They all interacted with her so easily. It didn't matter that she didn't have any memories. They had all fallen in love with her because she was Hermione, not because of her experiences.

Draco wasn't participating in the conversation, which was now onto funny Canadian stories. No one was paying him any attention, which gave him the opportunity to observe everyone else.

Fleur, Older Weasley, Oldest Weasley, Prissy Weasley, George, Longbottom, Looney, Hagrid, Mcgonagall, Papa Weasley, Mama Weasley and Kingsley were fully involved in the conversation. They seemed to have gotten used to having Hermione back. Draco smiled. It made him happy that Hermione had such a loving group to go back to.

Draco turned his attention to Hermione's closest friends, to see how they were adapting to having Hermione back. Potter, Weasel and Weaslette. When Draco saw them, he just got confused.

Potter was listening to Hermione with a dazed expression on his face and an unknown emotion in his eyes. It was as if the rest of the world didn't exist, and to Potter, it probably didn't. He kept his eyes fixed on her, looking happier than Draco had ever seen him.

Weaslette was smiling the fakest smile Draco had ever seen, and Draco had seen many fake smiles in his lifetime. Her eyes were pissed. They were fixed on Potter, who was too busy being blissed out to notice his wife sending him daggers. Every few seconds, Weaslette's face would relax, as if she was happy to have Hermione back. But, seconds later, it turned fake once more, with her eyes fixed on her husband.

Weasel was a mix of both. He was wearing the same expression as Potter: the bliss, the total and utter happiness, as well as that unknown emotion. Yet, every few seconds, his eyes shot to Potter, sending the daggers his sister was perfecting as well. Then, he'd turn back to Hermione, and all seemed well.

What the actual fuck.

Draco couldn't figure out what was up between the people who had, at one time, been the best of friends. These three, or four if you counted Weaslette, had a friendship beyond compare. Yet, a chasm had irrupted within it. Hermione couldn't see the chasm, but the others could. If they hadn't been able to mend it in seven years, who knew if they ever would be able to. Draco felt a pang of sadness: he was no fan of the golden trio, or quarto depending, but their friendship was one of a kind. It was sad to see that broken.

But what had broken it?

"So then he knocked me over."

Draco shook out of his reverie. Hermione was telling a story, and everyone was eyeing him.

"Sorry?" Draco asked, and a couple of people chuckled. Longbottom filled in the blanks.

"I asked Hermione how you found her."

"Oh," Draco said, catching up. "I was pissed drunk and knocked her to the ground after watching a hockey game at a bar."

Longbottom laughed. "Only you."

"I forgot, eh?" he stated, turning back to Hermione. "I was so drunk that I went home and forgot. I didn't remember until I knocked you over the next day."

Oldest Weasley burst out laughing. "You seem to have issues with knocking people over."

Draco chuckled, while Hermione began telling everyone about their time in Canada together. She went over the continuous knock-overs, the gala (which earned Draco several high fives for his successful ability to piss people off), and Blaise finding them.

Draco sat back and listened to her speak, actually listening this time. He was just starting to think that things were starting to go right, with the exception of Potter/Weasel/Weaslette confusion, and the whole memory business.

Then the world fell to shit.

As Hermione was talking about Blaise, an owl above the burrow. He seemed to be carrying a newspaper. Hermione stopped talking and they all stared at the owl. Mama Weasley stood up and the owl dropped the newspaper in her hand.

"Evening prophet," she said. "We have a subscription."

Smiling, she unrolled the paper and looked at the first page. Her eyes bulged out and she dropped it on the table. Everyone looked confused. Mama Weasley stuttered, but wasn't able to form words. She stared at Hermione and Draco with wide eyes. She wordlessly gestured to the next person to take the paper. She sat back down, looking completely mind-blown.

The paper went down the table, with everyone having varying reactions.

When it reached Kingsley, he swore in German. When it reached Hagrid, he just looked confused. When it reached Fleur, she nodded in approval. When it reached Older and Oldest, they laughed then stopped immediately, as if realising something. Prissy scoffed. When it reached Papa, he looked angry. When it Looney, she didn't look surprised. Narcissa gawked and smirked. Longbottom spat out all of his fire whiskey.

Those weren't even the best reactions.

Weaslette batted an eyelash but shrugged. Weasel's face turned bright red and he began stuttering in anger. Potter froze and turned white.

Finally, the paper reached Draco and Hermione. Everyone at the table was waiting for their reaction. Weasel looked like he wanted to punch Draco in the face. Potter looked cold and ruthless. Draco's heart was pounding as he looked at the paper with Hermione.

The front page was a full picture. It was a picture of the two them. They were on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. Hermione's legs were wrapped around his waist, with his hands ripping her robes off her back. His robes were ripped open, with her hands running up and down his chest. They were locked in the passionate embrace that Draco remembered oh so well.

The worst part: the picture was moving.

At the top, the headline read: HERMIONE GRANGER'S LOST MEMORY, RELATIONSHIP WITH EX DEATH EATER by Rita Skeeter.

There weren't enough swear words in the world.

**Review please lovelies**


	28. Chapter 28

**Hello all! I know it hasn't been a week yet, but I just like all of you so much that I gave you this update early. **

**Disclaimer: I've literally done this disclaimer on every chapter. It doesn't change.**

**Oh also, I've been going back into previous chapters to correct grammar mistakes that were missed. So if you notice a little difference in a chapter, that's all it is. The plot will not be changed at all.**

**Carry on.**

Draco stared at the newspaper in disbelief. His brain was scrambling to make sense of it. How had this happened? Sure, him and Hermione and been rather involved on the Quidditch Pitch, but they would've noticed if a crazy bitch came up with a camera.

Draco looked up. Everyone was watching him, with expressions ranging from happiness (Narcissa) to white hot rage (Weasel). Draco shot a look at Hermione. She was paler than normal, but besides that, she seemed to be handling this fairly well. She met his eye. They exchanged a look, which didn't go un-noticed by the other patrons at the table.

"Well, Malfoy?" Potter spat, venom in his voice. Draco was taken aback. He expected Weasel to be angry, but not Potter. However, Potter was sending daggers his way. Sometimes he really hated the overprotective brotherly side of Potter.

"Well, what?" was his only response.

"So it's true?" asked Weaslette. Merlin, even her voice was annoying.

Draco gave her an annoyed look. "What do you think, princess?" Weaslette's eyes immediately narrowed.

"You bastard," Weasel snarled. Here we go. "We trust you with Hermione, who's more precious to us than you'll ever know. Then, you betray us all. I knew you hadn't changed."

Draco fought a strange desire to laugh. He was just thinking of a witty response when Hermione butted in.

"I'm not a child, Ron. I can take care of myself perfectly fine. I don't need anyone to babysit me. Draco didn't pressure me or anything close to that. I can make my own choices. And I did. You're just mad because my choice was Draco."

And that's when Weasel lost his shit.

"All of your choices are stupid Hermione! They always have been! And take care of yourself? You can't take care of yourself for shit."

Hermione turned red, but shouted right back at him.

"I've been taking care of myself for seven years! I had no memory, no life, no family, no friends, nothing! And it was hard, but I did it! I can take care of myself pretty goddamn well, you dick!"

Weasel just laughed nastily. "You can't take care of yourself! If you did, why would you have to go running to pretty boy Potter every time something went wrong!"

Potter blanched considerably at this, while Weaslette went red with anger. Weasel didn't notice.

"And your choices are pretty shitty as well. Your choices got your parents killed!" Fleur gasped. "And if it wasn't for your inability to take care of yourself, you wouldn't have disappeared in the first place!"

Hermione gasped. "I was kidnapped!"

Weasel snorted. "Who was the idiot walking around Hogsmeade drunk at two am?"

That's when Potter stepped in. And boy, did he look angry.

"In case you don't remember, Ron, you had something to do with that."

Weasel gave Potter a glare that would make grown men cry. "All I remember is my girlfriend going to a different man's house at midnight."

Draco had been watching this entire argument somewhat distractedly until then. Hermione was doing fine yelling by herself, so Draco had been trying to figure out how Rita got that picture. But at Weasel's words, he came popping back into reality.

Potter was white with rage. "She came to my house because she was my best friend, nothing more."

Weasel was about to say something, but Hermione interrupted. Her face matched the colour of Gryffindor house.

"Shut the fuck up, you bastards! I don't remember either of you, and therefore, by my logic, you have no right to control my life. If I want to make out with Draco then I will! If I want to have crazy monkey sex with him, I'll be damned if you stop me!"

Potter blanched even more. He was nearly translucent. "You had sex with Draco?"

Hermione huffed. "You didn't hear me at all did you?"

Potter just glared. Draco heard a sigh from behind them, and turned to see Kingsley scratching his head.

"Listen you two," Kingsley started, speaking to Potter and Weasel. "Hermione has a right to be involved with anyone she wants. What I'm more interested in is how Skeeter managed to get a picture of it, and find out about the memory loss."

Potter rolled his eyes. "She's an animagus, remember? A beetle. She must have been bugging around."

Draco could've slapped himself. "There was a beetle, when I was talking to Hagrid about Hermione's memory loss."

Kingsley nodded. "And if she saw you two….being involved…she could have used that new technique of using a pensieve to photograph the memory to get the picture without you two noticing."

"Bitch," Hermione muttered. Draco smirked, and walked back over to her side. With the eyes of everyone on them, he took her hand. She didn't resist.

Kinglsey recovered from the silence that followed first. "Even though Draco and Hermione's endeavors are interesting, I'm much more concerned with the fact that the public now knows about Hermione's memory loss."

Draco sighed. "It's not the worst thing in the world, is it?"

Kingsley put on a grim face. "It depends. You know that they deliver newspapers to Azkaban now, right?"

Draco shrugged. He had a vague memory of his mother bringing newspapers to see Lucius.

Kingsley continued.

"If by chance the attacker is still alive, he'll be in Azkaban. So, even by tonight, if he's sane, he'll know that we've found Hermione, and we can't get her memories back unless he helps out. Otherwise, we would've gotten them already. He'll call a deal. We get the memories. He'll get his freedom."

Weasel spoke up. "We still have other options to get her memory back."

Draco replied. "We don't."

"I would never give a death eater their freedom," Potter snarled.

Kingsley looked the boy who lived straight in the eye. "For Hermione back? Harry, you'd give your life."

Potter opened his mouth to argue, but he hesitated. Draco knew it was true. Potter would give anything for Hermione. When it came to the people that Potter loved, there were no boundaries. In year five, Potter had thought his godfather was in danger, and ran straight to Voldemort. He loses rationality when it comes to love. Everyone does.

Potter looked up. "It's Hermione."

Kingsley sighed. "We know." Kingsley turned to Draco. "Draco, could you leave Hermione with Ginny? You, Harry and I need to talk."

Weasel shouted out. "What about me?"

Kingsley sighed. "I know you care about Hermione too, Ron. But you work in a joke shop. I'm the minister, Harry's a leading auror, and Draco knows more about this case than everyone else combined."

Weasel turned red, but it was too late. Draco handed Hermione off to Weaslette; they were best girlfriends, this would be a good chance for them to catch up. Potter, Kingsley and Draco all headed into the burrow and into the living room.

Kingsley stood, Potter leaned against the fireplace, and Draco, seeing no other option, sat on the couch.

Kingsley looked at him, and gestured. Draco understood the meaning, and quickly filled Potter in on what he had discovered at Hogwarts.

Potter listened closely as Draco explained how the memory block worked. When Draco had finished, Potter stared blankly at Draco for several seconds before responding.

"So Hermione protected some of her memories?"

Draco nodded.

"So we can only get all of her memories back if we get some bastard to do it."

"Bingo," Draco replied.

Potter stared at a spot on the floor for several moments. He looked up, and Draco saw a flash of hurt in his eyes before they went cold.

"She saved the memory of hitting you in the face, but nothing about me and Ron?"

Draco shrugged. "It was a really good punch, but you make a good point. I talked to Hermione about it, and we tried to figure out the pattern."

Potter raised an eyebrow. "Was this before or after you guys almost had sex on the Quidditch pitch?"

Draco rolled his eyes, but continued, unperturbed. "Before. So, anyway, Hermione thinks that she wouldn't have picked the memories at random. She thinks there must be a connection between them. Oh yeah!"

"What?" Kingsley asked.

Draco nearly smacked himself in the face. "She remembered something else."

Potter swore. "You need to keep us more up to date."

"What was it?" asked Kingsley, leaning forward.

Draco stared at his feet. He was way too ashamed, but he spoke anyway. "The first time I called her a mudblood."

Potter held up his hand. "Before or after?"

Draco huffed. "Right before."

Potter looked at him with a dubious expression. "And she still made out with you?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm awesome." Potter rolled his eyes, but Draco could still see some of the hurt.

Kingsley stared at the two of them. "I hate to say it, but finding out who did this is our only option. Otherwise she's never going to get her memories back."

Potter stared at Kingsley for a few minutes before responding. "Is that such a bad thing?"

Draco's jaw dropped. "Of course it is, dipshit."

Potter looked at him, squarely in the eye. "Hermione's life hasn't exactly been easy, Malfoy. None of ours have. I don't want to remember the war, or Sirius, of Lupin, or all the people I've lost. Why should I make Hermione? She'd be happier without knowledge of the war. She'd be happier without the memories of watching her classmates die. And her parents. Hermione's a martyr, she's going to blame herself for their death. She did back then, and she will again."

Draco lost the ability to speak. He couldn't believe Potter was saying this.

"Maybe I don't want her to remember!" Potter continued. "In the last week she was here, I was terrible to her. I wasn't who I promised I'd be." Potter sighed. "In the last year of the war, Ron left me and Hermione alone for several months. After he left, she was basically a ghost; she was so lifeless that it hurt to watch. A week after he left she finally spoke to me. She was so broken from Ron's betrayal. So I made her a promise. I promised her that I'd never leave her. That I'd always find her. That I'd always save her. But I didn't. I don't want her to remember me breaking that promise."

Draco tried to process that for a second. He hadn't known that Weasel had ditched Potter and Hermione during that final year. He wasn't that surprised though. So Potter had made her a promise: he'd never leave her. He'd always find her. He'd always save her. Boy, had he failed on that. But, Draco could easily imagine him saying it. Hermione and him alone, with him making that promise as she cried. It probably had happened exactly like that. Hermione would've believed him. She would have seen him as her hero. Draco's hands clenched with jealousy.

But Potter had failed. Draco had found her. Draco had saved her. Draco was her hero now.

"Potter," Draco started, testing the waters. When Potter didn't cut him off, Draco continued. "You don't mean any of that, except maybe the failing Hermione part. You wouldn't want to forget the war, or your losses. I don't either. And Hermione needs to remember. We all need to remember. We need to remember those who fell, and we need to honour them. You would never want to forget your godfather or Lupin. Because if you forget them, they really die. Because they live in you. You wouldn't give his memory up for anything."

"And, yes, Hermione's life sucked. We know. We were there. But not all of it was terrible. Sometimes, it was amazing. You know that's true. To get the great memories, you have to have the bad. That's just a fact of life. So, Potter, you need to do something for me."

Potter glared. "What?"

"Think of the best memory you've ever had with Hermione. Go on." Potter looked rather reluctant to do anything he said, but after a moment, Potter looked forward, and his face became rather blissful. Draco knew he got it.

"Now that memory changed you, I assume?" Potter nodded slowly. "One of the happiest moments of your life?" Potter nodded again. "I know you, Potter. That memory is everything to you isn't it? Would you ever give it up?"

Potter shook his head. "Never."

"Do you want her to?" Potter sighed, and shook his head. "Exactly."

"As hard as it is for me to admit, you're right Malfoy. Hermione needs to know everything." Draco felt like Potter had some special secret meaning to that, but he didn't care enough to figure it out.

Kingsley looked dumbfounded for a moment. But he got over it. "That's wonderful. Now that we've settled that, we can only wait."

Draco was now the dumbfounded one. "That's our only option?"

Kingsley nodded. "Whoever the bastard is, he'll find out about Hermione soon. Then, it's his choice whether or not to come forward. My bet is he will. But we can't force him. We don't even know who it is yet."

Kingsley walked over to the door. "I need to go inform the ministry what is happening. I'll contact you two if anything shows up. I'm just going to quickly thank Molly for this lovely dinner, even if it was interrupted." With that, Kingsley whisked out the door, leaving Potter and Draco alone.

Draco turned to say something to Potter, but before he knew what was happening, the boy who lived had Draco pinned up against a wall, wand at his neck.

"Listen here, Malfoy," Potter hissed, pushing the wand into his neck. That was going to leave a mark. "What are you playing at with Hermione?"

"Nothing, Potter. I'm not playing at anything."

"Bullshit," Potter said menacingly. "You find her in Canada, random yes, but it could happen to anyone. You guys become friends. Eh, maybe. You two kiss. Question mark. You sleep in her bed. Triple question mark."

"You had no big issue with that!" Draco responded, eyeing the wand.

"Are you an idiot? I only defended you because Ron was the attacker. Before all of this, I liked you more than him, which is saying a lot."

Draco had no response to this. Potter continued.

"Then the picture on the front of the Prophet. That was worth a million question marks. Many people love Hermione, including me, so I ask you, what the hell are you playing at?"

Draco tried not to roll his eyes at Potter's dramatics. "Is it possible that I might like her?"

"Not in my world," was his ingenious response. Draco tried to deflect the attack.

"Well, she seems fine with it. So you shouldn't care. But you do. Why do you care so much, Potter? You have a wife, in case you've forgotten."

Potter paused momentarily, which gave Draco the ability to get out of his grasp. He was at the other side of the room before Potter realised what had happened.

"Bastard," Potter muttered.

"Why do you care?" Draco asked again. He hadn't realised how much he was really wondering about this. Potter was super protective of Hermione, but this was kind of ridiculous. Not to mention the hurt Draco kept on seeing in his eyes.

"Back off, ferret," Potter menaced.

"Why do you care?" Draco shouted back.

"Because it's Hermione!" Potter yelled. With that, he turned on his heel, and left the room.

Draco was left to ponder the meaning of that. After several moments, he still didn't get it, so he went to go find Hermione.

He walked out into the yard. Weasel saw him first and sent daggers his way. Draco ignored them. He made a brief observation of the yard. Hermione and Weaslette weren't there. Draco walked up to his mother, who was chatting with Mama about something.

"Mother," he said, walking up. "Have you seen Hermione? She's supposed to be with Weas…Ginny."

His mother turned to Mama, who answered. "They went up to Ginny's old room. Third floor. On the left." Draco thanked her and headed back into the house.

When he reached the third landing, he saw that Weaslette's door was ajar. He went up to push it open, but he heard voices inside. His curiosity got the better of him.

"So, Ginny, how long have you been with Harry?"

"About nine years." She sounded so fake you could probably find her name on fast food ingredient lists.

"That's so sweet!" Hermione responded, sounding sincere.

Draco could see Weaslette's fake smile in his head. "Yes, it is. But, that's old news. What about you? Draco, huh?"

"We're not really together," was Hermione's response.

"You're snogging on Quidditch pitches. Close enough. Personally, I think that would be great."

Draco's jaw dropping actually made a popping sound. Weaslette wanted him and Hermione to happen? What the hell?

"You do?" Hermione responded hopefully. Draco's heart stuttered.

"Yes. You two would be such a good fit. And Draco is so much better than your ex-boyfriends."

Hermione laughed. "Isn't one of my ex-boyfriends your brother?"

"Harry's right on that one. You two weren't really together."

"Why does Ron think we were?" Hermione mused.

"Because you two snogged during the final battle and he had spent three years obsessing over you."

"Ah," Hermione understood. "Ginny, everyone keeps referencing things, could you just clarify some stuff for me?"

Weaslette must've nodded, because Hermione continued.

"Harry and I were pretty close, right?"

Weaslette paused before responding. "Like siblings. You two were the closest of friends. You knew him better than I did." Weaslette's voice got really tight at the end.

"Were Ron and me that close?"

"No," Weaslette continued. "You all were that close at one point, but then Ron left you and Harry."

"Left us?" Hermione questioned. "What do you mean?"

Weaslette sighed. "While, during the last year of the war, you, Harry and Ron went into hiding to try and bring down Voldemort. But, about half way through, Ron left."

"Why'd he leave?"

Now Weaslette really paused, contemplating her answer. "While, Ron was having issue with the lack of food….."

Hermione laughed. "So he left his two best friends?"

Weaslette laughed humourlessly. "Yep. There were some other things that happened, but they're not that important." Weaslette said all that quickly, trying to brush it off. Draco's eyes narrowed. "Anyway, you and Harry were left alone in the woods for two months by yourself. I've asked Harry before what happened during those months, but he won't tell me. He says it's personal, but all I know is that you two were so much closer afterwards. When Ron went back to you, things were never the same."

Hermione seemed to ponder over what Weaslette had said for a few moments, before Weaslette started speaking again.

"But that was a really long time ago. I would've thought Ron was over you by now. I mean, he's had seven years and other relationships. He should get over it. If he finally gets over you, I think he'll realise that you two were never meant to be and that he's meant to be with other people. That's the only way he'll be happy."

Hermione must've nodded. "I think so. I mean, I was gone for seven years. That should be enough time to get over something that happened a long time ago. I mean, all we did was kiss right?"

Weaslette muttered something, and then answered. "You and Ron? Yep. That was it."

"I would've thought he'd get over me."

Weaslette sound really sad when she spoke next. "He's never going to get over you."

There was a pause for a moment, before Weaslette spoke again.

"But you and Draco. I've seen you two together, Mione. You may not see it, but I do. There's something there. I don't know what it is, but it's there. And I'm betting that it's never going away. So go for it. Plus, Draco's really hot."

Hermione snorted. "He is." Draco smiled.

There was another pause, and then Weaslette spoke again. Her voice was a lot softer and less bitchy. It actually passed for sincere.

"I've really missed you, 'Mione. I'd forgotten how much. I'm so glad your back. Even if you don't remember me, I don't mind. Harry does, but he's an idiot. I've missed you, not your memories. Having you back is enough for me."

"Thanks Ginny," Hermione said quietly. Draco rolled his eyes. That would've been sweet if it wasn't Weaslette who had said it. Draco sighed and knocked on the door. It was time to go.

Weaslette opened the door, and appraised him. She smirked and Hermione came to the door.

"Oh, Weaslette, Potter went home," he told her, as Hermione walked out to meet him.

Weaslette's eyes narrowed. "Why?" she asked sharply.

Draco shrugged. "It's Potter. If I knew why he did the things he did, my life would be a whole lot simpler."

Weaslette pursed her lips, and nodded. She pulled Hermione into a hug, and bade the two of them farewell. She went back into her room and shut the door.

Draco led Hermione back downstairs. It was getting late, they should start heading home. Draco led Hermione into the living room, where everyone was chatting. Weasel was missing. He must've gone home too.

Narcissa saw them and stood up as she bade Molly goodbye. Draco sent Hermione to say goodbye to everyone. She was engulfed immediately. Narcissa walked over to Draco.

"So?" she asked smirking. Such a mother.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. Narcissa nodded, understanding.

"She's a great girl, Dragon," she whispered.

"She's more than great," Draco replied, leaning back and watching Hermione say goodbye to everyone. Narcissa smiled, and wrapped Draco in a hug, which he returned easily.

"It'll work out," Narcissa said after she released him.

Hermione had finally said goodbye to everyone, so she walked back to Draco and Narcissa. She took Draco's hand, and the two of them walked out of the burrow.

Draco took one final look at the Weasley's home. He'd give them this: it sure was homely.

The three of them disaparated back to the Manor. They landed on the front steps, and headed inside. Narcissa bade them both goodnight, and headed off to sleep.

Draco turned to Hermione. She raised her eyebrow.

"So why did Harry really leave?" At his confused expression, she continued. "I can tell when you're lying."

Draco sighed. "He pinned me to a wall and then I yelled at him."

Hermione looked stricken. "Why'd he pin you to a wall?"

Draco looked her straight in the eye, and took a deep breath. "He thinks I'm messing you around."

Hermione didn't break their eye contact. "You're not." She said it as a statement, and not a question.

Draco took a step towards her, and lowered his voice. "I'm not."

Hermione nodded. "I know."

"Are you messing me around?" Draco didn't know why he asked her that. Their relationship just seemed too good to be true.

"No." She was looking him dead in the eye, and Draco knew that was the truth.

Draco felt his heart stop and restart. Hermione spoke once more. "So where do we go from here?" Draco opened his mouth to answer, yet found he couldn't.

They stood there looking at each other for no one knows how long. Draco couldn't take his eyes away from hers. He reached up and brushed a piece of hair out of her face. He left his hand on her cheek. She looked up at him. Her eyes were twinkling. She was so beautiful, Draco mused. Without thinking, or hesitating, he leant down and kissed her.

The second his lips met hers, Draco felt sparks. This kiss wasn't like the Quidditch pitch: sex and lust. This was softer. Hermione pulled herself into him, and gave no resistance. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and held her close. He wanted her close.

Draco didn't know where the two of them were going. Draco barely knew where they were. Draco saw how others felt about her, and now he understood it perfectly. This was Hermione. There was something there. He felt it deep within himself. A connection. Maybe it had been there before Canada, maybe it hadn't. But now it was permanent. He felt it every time he set eyes on her, every time his eyes met hers.

Was it love? He didn't know. Maybe. He could see himself falling in love with her. It would be easy, effortless. Loving Hermione Granger would be the simplest thing in the world.

It'd be like falling into a deep sleep. You feel it coming on, you recognize that it's about to happen. But you couldn't remember the seconds before, when you passed from consciousness to dreams. Then suddenly, you're dreaming.

Draco was falling asleep.

Hermione pulled back a bit, but they were still only inches apart. "Could you sleep in my room tonight?"

Draco's breath hitched, and Hermione chucked. "Not like that. I just want to be with you."

Draco nodded, almost thoughtlessly. He wrapped his arms around Hermione, and lifted her up, bridal style. He walked them up to their rooms. He set her down, and went into his room to change.

After he had his Slytherin pyjamas on, he walked across the hall, and into Hermione's room. She was lying under the covers. The top of her Slytherin pyjamas was showing. Draco looked at her, and felt his mouth go dry.

She met his eye. Wordlessly, Draco walked over to the bed, and got under the covers, lying down. She scooted over to him, and laid her head on his chest. Draco wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

He placed a butterfly kiss on her forehead, and began to fall asleep.

In more ways than one.

* * *

It was cold that night. He sat shivering in the corner as the harsh wind blew through the barred door. It was storming outside, though the guards didn't seem to mind.

He gripped the thin blanket he had, and covered himself up as best he could. His hands were in shackles, but he didn't care.

After seven years, he was used to it.

He stared blankly at the wall opposite, trying to ignore the wails coming from outside. The insane prisoners screamed and wailed almost every night. Luckily, he hadn't lost his sanity.

Then again, he hadn't been that sane to begin with.

He heard movement outside the cell. One of the prison guards floated by. They didn't affect him that much. The guard opened the door, and threw in the daily newspaper. He rolled his eyes and tried to keep warm. He had lost interest in the outside world a long time ago.

The storm outside suddenly stopped raging. He sighed. Maybe he'd be able to sleep. If Azkaban had done one thing to him, it had made him weaker. But not as weak as the guards thought.

He tried to close his eyes, but suddenly something bright hit them. He blinked. The moonlight was shining through. He sighed, and looked around. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned.

The paper the guard had thrown in had a picture of a girl on the front. The man's breath hitched. He recognized her.

He threw the blanket off and crawled across the cell floor and picked up the paper. Just as he suspected.

Hermione Granger.

He stroked a finger across her face. "Pet," he crooned. The last time he had seen her, she had looked a little different.

The last time he had seen her, she had remembered who he was.

He hadn't thought they would find her. She was so well hidden, especially with the memory charm. He should've just killed her when he had the chance. However, he liked the idea of Potter searching in vain for her, knowing she was alive, but wasn't with him. Just out of reach. It had broken Potter, he knew that. That was his goal. With his pet back, Potter was probably starting to live again.

That would have to stop.

The man chuckled slightly, looking at the face of the girl he had taken. He felt a spark in his black heart.

"Don't worry, pet," he chuckled. "We'll be reunited before you know it. That I can promise you."

For the first time, deranged laughter filled his cell at Azkaban.

**Review**


	29. Chapter 29

**Good day, lovelies. Here's the next chapter. But before that happens, a few things need to be said.**

**This has been a big week for Fate Has Its Ways. It was added to its first community, "Forsaken Destiny, Forsaken Fate". It passed 350 reviews, (at the time of this posting, we're at 387). It hit 200 favourites. And it passed 400 followers.**

**I am so blown away by this. When I started writing this story in early August of last year, I never expected it to get this kind of response. I love all of you so much. Whether you've been reading from day one, or this is your very first day, you are incredible. Thank you all so very much.**

**Anyway, that's enough of me being sappy. Carry on.**

**Disclaimer: No.**

Draco woke slowly in the morning, drifting back into consciousness. Hermione was still tucked into his side. He brushed his fingers through her hair. She snuggled closer into him. He leant down a place a kiss on her forehead. She sighed in bliss. Draco looked down at her.

He felt slightly strange in his current situation. Having Hermione sleep next to him in bed was a new experience for him. Sure, he had shagged countless girls. He had slept in their beds, and left in the morning. He barely knew them, and he didn't want to. But simply holding Hermione in his arms while she slept felt more intimate than any time he'd slept over at a girl's house. Nothing huge had happened, but that one night had mattered more to him than any shag with some girl.

Hermione mattered more to him than any other girl.

Hermione began to blink. She hazily made her way back to him. She rubbed her eyes, and opened them wide. She smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling.

"Good morning," she whispered. Draco smiled at her. Hermione sat up, and let the covers fall off her. Draco was once again reminded why tight pyjamas were a blessing.

Hermione snorted. "Eyes up here, Draco," she chuckled, gesturing to her eyes. Draco laughed, and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close.

"Well, where's the fun in that?" he whispered. Hermione leant in this time.

Their lips crashed together, all passion. Draco pulled Hermione in so that the only things separating them were thin layers of clothing. Draco fell back onto the bed, Hermione landing on top of him. It didn't break their kiss. If anything, it intensified it. She tasted like strawberries.

"Come on, you two. I just ate."

Hermione jumped off him, landing next to him on her back. Draco looked up at their interrupter and swore.

"What the fuck is it, Blaise?"

Blaise was leaning against the doorframe. He wore a bemused expression having caught them snogging. He wore a dark suit that screamed secret agent. Draco sighed. Auror business.

Next to him stood Potter. How Potter got into his house, Draco didn't know. The boy who lived was wearing his poker face, staring determinedly at the wall. However, Draco saw the hurt on his face from catching Draco and Hermione.

"Hi Blaise," Hermione said, waving a hand, her face a spectacular shade of red. Blaise nodded in her direction, but his face had turned serious.

"Morning you two. I have news."

Draco sat up. "Which is?"

"While you two were snogging, I got a letter from Azkaban."

Draco's mouth grew dry, and his heart started pounding. "What'd it say?"

Blaise opened the folder he was holding in his hands. Draco hadn't noticed he was holding one. Blaise looked down at the folder then up at him.

"Someone came forward," Blaise said.

Draco stuttered while trying to form words. "We found out who did it?"

Blaise shook his head. "Not the leader. Just one of the participants. We're going to the ministry in an hour. He wants to exchange his freedom for the story."

Draco sighed and tried to see the positives. They were one step closer. But, the thought of dealing with a death eater was not something he was looking forward to.

"What's his name?" Draco asked.

Blaise sighed and looked at the ground. "Nott Sr."

Draco swore. Fucking bastard. That man had fathered one of his best childhood friends. He was very well acquainted with Nott Sr. He knew who they were dealing with.

And he was not happy about it.

Blaise nodded in agreement. "I know. Nott's a bastard. But this is our only shot. So you two better get dressed and get your asses down to the kitchen. No more snogging."

Draco huffed. Blaise smirked at them and closed the door. Before it shut completely, Draco made eye contact with Potter.

Boy wonder did not look pleased.

Draco turned to Hermione, who was staring at the wall. She spoke without looking at him.

"Well, that worked out well." She sounded morose, and she wouldn't meet his eyes.

Draco reached out and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and holding her there. She was now seated on his lap with her arms around his neck. "What's wrong?" he whispered.

"I'm nervous," she replied, in a small voice.

"What about?"

Hermione took a deep breath, and barely whispered the answer. "What if I don't want to remember?"

Draco shook his head so fast he got a crick in his neck. "No, no, no, Hermione. You want to."

"But what if I don't?" she sounded choked up. "In the past few days, getting my memories back seemed like the distant future. I hadn't reall thought about it. But now that it's possibly hours away, I'm scared. Some of the things you guys have told me, the war, my parents, _you_. I don't want to remember those things."

Draco stopped breathing. "What do you mean me?"

Hermione pulled back. She looked him in the eye, and grazed over his cheek with her fingers. "Everyone tells me you were horrible to me," she said, examining his entire face slowly. "You said it yourself. But you're so sweet now, so kind, and so gentle. I don't want to remember a tyrant. I don't want my memories to change how I feel about you."

Draco could feel his heart ramming against the inside of his chest. "And how do you feel about me?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but just then, the door slammed open.

"For the love of merlin, you two! I know you want to make passionate bed breaking love, but we don't have time for that! Draco, get up. Hermione, Narcissa's here. She'll give you some clothes. Up! Get up!"

If Draco didn't have such good self-control, he would've killed Blaise Zabini on the spot.

* * *

About twenty minutes later, Draco and Hermione were sitting in the kitchen. They were wearing muggle clothes to help keep Hermione comfortable. She sure looked comfortable in dark skinny jeans, a blue t shirt, and a pair of converse. Draco knew they were going in front of the entire wizarding world today, so they probably should've been wearing nicer clothes. But whatever. Draco was so beyond caring about what the wizarding world thought of him. He was in his classic all black, jeans and a t-shirt.

Hermione and Draco were scarfing down pancakes, as Potter and Blaise explained what had happened to his mother. She had been the one who had let Potter and Blaise in. Blaise was there because he was technically still in charge of the case. Potter was there because…..Potter.

Draco was finding it hard to breath. He had thought about Hermione's kidnapping for seven years, and now, he was twenty minutes away from finding out what had happened. That was more important to him at the moment than getting Hermione's memories back. This was the mystery that had haunted the Wizarding World. He wanted the answers. He wanted to know what had happened.

He wanted to know how it was possible for Hermione Granger to lose.

Draco and Hermione finished their pancakes at almost the exact same time. They pushed back their chairs and stood up, joining hands thoughtlessly. When Blaise saw this, he rolled his eyes. When Potter saw it, he glared.

Narcissa gave Draco and Hermione a joint hug.

"It'll be alright," she whispered. Draco didn't know what she was talking about specifically, but that phrase could be used in basically every part of his life right now.

"Thanks Narcissa," Hermione whispered.

Blaise and Potter walked over to the two of them.

"So, we're apparating in," Blaise said. "Right into the atrium. There will be plenty of reporters there."

"Then why are we apparating there?" Draco asked. Blaise opened his mouth to answer, but Potter cut across him.

"Because we need to show the public that Hermione is alright, that she's not hiding. That's she proud and strong, especially after the memory loss became public."

Draco nodded. It seemed logical enough. Though it would suck. It would really suck.

"So," Blaise continued. "Hermione, get ready to look impressive. Just act like you know what you're doing. And stay in between Harry and Draco."

Hermione nodded, taking it in. The four of them joined hands making a pinwheel. With a sudden whoosh, they were off.

They landed in the atrium without stumbling, for which Draco was thankful. He only had a couple of seconds to get his game face on before cameras started flashing. He blinked several times, and got into position.

Hermione kept her hold on his hand. Potter was on her other side. Blaise was behind them. Ahead of them lay the largest crowd of reporters Draco had ever seen. On the other side were the elevators. That was their destination. Draco put on his best smirk for the cameras, and shot a look at Hermione.

It struck him how determined she looked. Her hair was out of her face, and her face was glowing. Her eyes were on fire, and a slight smile played at her mouth. Draco didn't know if she was faking it or not, but she looked like she damn well owned the place.

"Ms. Granger! Ms. Granger!" Cries filled the hall. Draco looked at Potter. They both exchanged a nod. They began walking, or strutting is more like it.

Hermione didn't look much at the reporters. She just walked forward, her hand intertwined with his. Potter looked angry. Draco just kept his smirk on.

Before long, they had reached the elevators. The reporters had gracefully parted for them to go through. They got into an elevator and closed the gate.

"What floor?" asked the bellman, eyeing Hermione nervously.

"Department of Mysteries," Potter told the man. He turned to Draco. "It's a full Wizengamot."

Of course it was.

Draco raised his hand to hold one of the golden handles at the top of the elevator. On its first jolt backwards, Hermione grabbed on to him. Draco wrapped an arm around her waist while she wrapped hers around his. Draco held her there until the elevator jerked to a final stop.

They stepped off the lift and Blaise started leading them down a long, dark corridor. They arrived at a set of large doors. Draco could hear voices mulling around within them.

"We're here!" said Blaise. "So, when you go in, take a seat on the bench right below Kingsley. Nott's not in there yet, but he's in the building. They should bring him in soon."

"Where are you going, Blaise?" Draco asked.

"I'm still head of this case. I'll be sitting with the other aurors. Harry is coming with me. Oh, so you know, the Weasleys are all sitting in the visitor boxes. Well, except Percy. He's working upstairs."

"Just what I needed," Draco muttered. He met Blaise's eye once more, and his best friend of nearly fourteen years gestured to the doors. Draco sighed, and turned to Hermione.

"Ready to have the most dramatic entrance possible?" Draco smirked at Hermione. She nodded. She looked a little pale.

Draco leant in and whispered in her ear. "This won't change anything." She nodded, understanding. He gave her a kiss on the cheek, while Potter coughed. Draco rolled his eyes.

He smiled at her, and she returned it. She took a deep breath, and together, they both walked into the Wizengamot.

The entire chamber went silent. Draco looked around and saw all the wizarding officials, some more reporters, the Weasleys, and finally, his eyes landed on Kingsley. The minister was sitting high above the rest of the officials. Below his platform was a bench. Draco pulled Hermione towards it. They sat down.

Draco turned his head and whispered to her. "The officials in the gowns decide on the outcome of the case, or the witness in this case. They decide if his information is good enough to shorten his sentence."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully; completely aware that everyone's eyes were on them. She still looked slightly pale.

Draco looked straight ahead of him while he waited for Kingsley to start. He was exceptionally nervous. They were about to be in a room with one of Hermione's attackers. Not the main one, but that didn't matter to him. It would take all his energy not to kill the man.

Kingsley's voice boomed out suddenly from behind them.

"Court in session! Kingsley Shaklebolt, minister for magic speaking. Case 394, missing persons. Subject: the disappearance of Hermione Granger, 1998. Ms. Granger has been found and a witness has come forward to speak about her disappearance. Bring in Mr. Nott Sr."

The doors opened on the other side of the chamber. Two of the wizard cops came in, escorting a man in shackles. His face was sunken and hollow. His hair was limp and gray, falling over his face. His clothes were ripped and dirty, falling over his frail form.

Boy, had the pure-blooded supremacist gone downhill.

The guards brought him in and sat on a chair in the middle of the room. The chair immediately bolted him there. Nott couldn't get away even if he tried.

Kingsley got the attention of the room once more. "Mr. Nott, you have been brought here from Azkaban on your own request. Why is that?"

Nott looked up from his seat and straight at Hermione. His eyes were piercing gray, angry yet calm at the same time. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Hermione flinch.

"Because of the girl," Nott rasped.

Kingsley rolled his eyes. "We know. Please specify."

Nott coughed and looked up at Kingsley. "I know what happened to her. I was there. I….helped." His voice sounded like nails on a chalk board.

Kingsley drummed his fingers on his desk. "And in exchange for this information, you would like…"

"My freedom," he rasped, coughing even more.

Kingsley paused for a moment. Slowly, he began to speak again. "If we deem your information acceptable, we will consider your claim. So talk, prisoner."

Nott twitched several times. Defiantly, he said, "I'm not saying anything until I get my freedom."

Kingsley sighed. "We can't give it to you."

Nott growled. Actually. He growled. "Well, good luck getting her memories back then." He nodded his head in Hermione direction. She twitched, and Draco wrapped his arm around her to keep her calm. Cameras flashed in the corner of his eye.

Nott snarled up at Kingsley. "If you don't want to know how she was tied up and tortured, feel free. If you don't want to know how she got to Canada, go ahead. If you don't want to know the name of the man who stood above her and ripped away her world, that's fine with me." He was rasping by the end.

There was a pause in the chamber. Everyone seemed to be thinking over what Nott had said. Draco was thinking about it too. He did want to know those things. He wanted to know them very much. But was setting a death eater, one who had murdered hundreds, on the loose a fair trade? Draco couldn't make that call.

The silence in the courtroom prolonged. Draco looked around. Everyone was thinking, and Nott was just smirking, thinking he had won. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room grew tense. It was like the calm before the storm. Draco nearly swore. He knew what was coming before everyone else did.

So when Potter stood up and shouted, Draco wasn't that surprised.

"My name is Harry Potter, auror," he shouted from his place with the aurors. Blaise started tugging on his sleeve to get his ass down, but boy wonder wouldn't budge. "On behalf of the ministry of magic, I offer Nott Sr. his complete innocence in any death eater acts committed during the Wizarding War on the condition that he tells the courtroom absolutely everything he knows about Hermione's disappearance."

Of course Potter just did that.

The courtroom froze. No one said a thing. Kingsley's jaw had dropped to the floor. Weasel's eye was twitching. The officials in gowns seemed shell-shocked. Blaise had his face in his hands. Then out of nowhere, Nott shouted out, his face alit.

"I ACCEPT!"

Then the courtroom exploded.

Papers flew everything, people began yelling at each other, Blaise slapped Potter across the face, Nott cackled in joy, Kingsley was shouting for order, while all the officials started arguing. Hermione turned to him and buried her face in his chest. He held her there, trying to understand what was going on.

After ten minutes, Kingsley managed to regain order. He looked angrier than Draco had ever seen him. His ears were steaming.

"Well," the minister hissed. "As Potter knows, when an offer is made in the courtroom by the ministry, and the suspect accepts, it becomes a bounded magical contract. We are now required to give you your unconditional freedom. However, and we will be testing with veriteserum, if you hold anything back, or lie in the slightest, we will be sending you back to Azkaban with no chance of exit. So, you had better tell us what you know right this second."

Nott smirked. "I can do one better. If you have a pensieve on hand, I can just show you."

Kingsley stared for a moment. "Mr. Nott, you shall release all your memories of Ms. Granger's disappearance. Will someone get a pensieve?"

One of the guards brought in a pensieve and laid it on the desk in the middle of the room.

Another guard raised his wand to Nott's head. Silver liquid had begun to leak out of Nott's eyes and ears. The guard collected all the silvery liquid and put it in the pensieve, where it began to shimmer softly. The memories in the pensieve began to swirl around, forming blurry images that Draco couldn't quite make out.

Draco leaned forward in anticipation. He was shaking. They were actually going to see what had happened to Hermione. He had never imagined this possibility. He had thought they would hear about it, if anything. Draco shuddered when he realised the full implications of seeing what had happened to Hermione. Draco looked at Hermione. She looked scared, curious, determined, and confused all at the same time.

Draco couldn't believe was about to happen. Everything seemed to be happening so quickly around him. The discovery of the memory block, the Quidditch pitch, dinner last night, the paper, and now this. Life wasn't giving him any time to adjust to what was happening. Life hadn't given them any answers about Hermione in seven years. Now, in the last three days, more had happened with Hermione than ever before.

Draco thought back to something Hermione had said to him in Canada. Fate has its ways. That's what she had said when talking about them running into each other again. Draco supposed she was right, in more ways than she had known at the time. Fate was doing this. Fate was doing all of this. It was running the show. Draco guessed that it must be working towards something. It has its ways. His mother used to say that everything always works out in the end. Fate was working towards their end. It was setting something up. Everything was happening for a reason.

But what their end was going to be, Draco was scared to find out.

Kingsley stood up. "Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger and I shall enter the pensieve and watch the memories. Afterwards, I shall describe what I saw and ask Nott Sr some questions."

Draco stood up thoughtlessly. In less than a second, Potter was at his side. Hermione was still holding his hand, with Kingsley on his other side.

Kingsley leaned across the group quickly and whispered to Potter. "If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I will fire you on the spot."

Potter nodded, but didn't seem to care. Kingsley sighed. It seems there was no getting through to the chosen one. Draco wasn't surprised. When it came to the ones he loved, there was nothing he wouldn't give up.

And he loved Hermione more than anything.

Draco stuttered over his thoughts for a second. Something was forming in his mind. Something was beginning to make sense.

Draco was just trying to figure out what that something was when he was pushed forward into the pensieve.

**Review :)**


	30. Chapter 30

**Hello all! I hit 400 reviews last chapter. You are all incredible. Truly. Reviews motivate me to keep writing. I read every single one of them. Thank you for that motivation, because I love writing. This chapter also is the mark at which Fate Has Its Ways passes 100 000 words. That's a lot of words. **

**The chapter will answer some of your questions and predictions I hope. It's amazing how this story has progressed from my original idea, but I love it. Oh, and congratulations to some of the reviewers who have been guessing answers. Some of you are right. Well done indeed.**

**Disclaimer: No.**

Hermione, Draco, Potter and Kingsley landed on the side of a dark road. Draco blinked several times, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. He guessed this was where Nott's memories of Hermione started. No memories Hermione had landed right next to him, still clutching his hand. Potter was on his other side. Kingsley had taken a few steps forward.

Draco looked around to understand their surroundings. A cluster of lighted buildings could be seen about one hundred metres away. They were small buildings, cottages or shops. On the quartet's other side was a long winding road that led to the mountains. But before the mountains took over the dark skyline, a castle could be seen in the moonlight. It's glittering towers and turrets gave away their location immediately.

They were right outside of Hogsmeade.

Hermione squeezed his hand. He turned and looked at her. She was looking around nervously. "Where are we?"

Oh shit. He had forgotten to explain to her what a pensieve did. "We're inside Nott's memory of your attack. No one inside the memory can see us, and we can't affect anything." Hermione nodded, understanding fairly simply, though she did look slightly rattled from falling into someone else's memories.

Potter turned towards them. "Nott and the death eaters should be around here somewhere then, if this is where we started the memory." Not a second later, Kingsley gestured towards a cluster of trees right off the main road. Draco could see the thin outlines of masks in the darkness.

The four of them walked towards the trees. As they drew closer, they began to hear the voices.

"You're sure the mudblood bitch is here?" That was Nott's voice.

"Yes, Nott," replied a nasty voice from the darkness. Draco thought it sounded familiar, but he couldn't put a face or a name to it. Draco saw the outline of the mask who was speaking. The mask had turned away from Nott and was staring up the main road now. "She's coming. Stupid bitch. Befriending Potter will prove to be the stupidest thing she's ever done." The speaker sounded barely sane.

Draco saw Potter visibly stiffen out of the corner of his eye. He vaguely thought of offering the boy who lived some comfort, but Hermione beat him to it.

The war heroine let go of his hand and went over to Potter. She wrapped her arm around his waist like Draco had seen her do to Potter when they were younger. This familiar gesture seemed to calm Potter, who loosened up, and wrapped his arm around Hermione's shoulder.

Draco tried desperately to ignore them. He could feel the jealousy clawing at his insides. He turned his attention back to the death eaters. He could see all their masks in the dark, so their faces were covered. No identification possible. Draco did a quick count. There were seven of them.

They were all talking amongst themselves. Draco couldn't make out any of the words though. Nott probably had stopped paying attention. But suddenly, the meaningless chatter stopped. A hush fell over them. All of the heads turned up towards Hogsmeade. There, about fifty metres out of the village, a figure was stumbling their way down the street.

Hermione.

As she got closer, they were all able to see her face. It was tear streaked, with puffy red eyes and giant bags under her eyes. She looked dreadful.

She came stumbling forward down the path. About ten metres away from where they were, she hit a rock and tripped, landing on her hands and knees. Her wand skidded out of her coat and across the gravel. Draco groaned. He knew what would happen, but he could not believe how vulnerable a position Hermione had put herself in.

Nott and his company swept out from the trees like shadows. They were in front of Hermione not five seconds after she had fallen. Hermione looked up and skidded backwards, hastily making her way to her feet. She felt for her wand, but realized it had disappeared. The fear on her drunken face was evident.

"Well," crooned the leader, who Draco still couldn't put a name to. "What a nice present to stumble across our path."

"Death eaters," Hermione muttered nervously, backing up a few paces. She looked quickly to each side, trying to find an escape.

The leader gave a sort of hysterical laugh. "Well done. The Dark Lord may have been vanquished, but those who stay loyal to him shall never be silenced."

Hermione shot a look over her shoulder, seeing how far away from the town she was. She turned back, realizing she was too far to make a quick sprint back. "What do you want?" she said as courageously and defiantly as she was able to manage.

"Isn't it obvious?" the leader smirked, stepping forward. "Do you honestly think we don't recognize you, drunk as you may be? Miss Hermione Granger. Potter's very best friend."

The leader looked around at his followers. "Potter deserves to rot in hell for everything he's done." The other death eaters nodded enthusiastically. The leader turned back to Hermione. "We could just kill him. But, that wouldn't accomplish what we want. We want him to hurt, not die. Pain is eternal, death is unknown. Potter always hurts when the people he loves hurt. If we want to put Potter in unbearable pain, his best friend seems like a good place to start."

Hermione snorted. Draco, no memories Hermione and Kingsley exchanged confused looks. Potter just looked at the ground. This girl must've been drunker than she knew to be snorting in this situation.

"Well, I'd go look somewhere else," Hermione replied. "Harry doesn't think I'm his best friend. He hates me. He said so himself. What were his exact words? Oh yes. _A no good know-it-all who tags along because no one else will take her. I don't want you in my life. Fuck off and leave me and Ron alone. _What a bastard."

"Well, he's lying, pet," the leader said, taking another step forward. "You are his best friend, whether or not he said so. He wants you more than he'll ever admit. He cares about you more than you'll ever know. He loves you in more ways than a man should be able to. You are his everything."

He took another step forward, while the other death eaters made a formation behind him. He raised his wand and eyed it, stroking it with his fingertips.

"But Potter forgot something," he said, examining the wand. "Love makes you weak, and since Potter loves you, when you get hurt, he gets hurt. When you cry, he cries. And when you disappear, he'll lose himself. And then he'll blame himself. It will ruin him, driving him into an endless life of misery and despair. And then, finally, the boy who lived will be finished. Not through a battle, or a duel. But through his supposed greatest strength, which will also be his greatest nightmare. Love is weakness." With this the leader shot a jinx at Hermione.

She managed to dodge it narrowly. She turned and began to run back to Hogsmeade. However, the other death eaters started firing upon her. There were too many jinxes being thrown her way. She eventually was hit. She fell to the ground, and the death eaters surrounded her.

At this, Potter turned around, not being able to watch. Draco tried to rip his eyes away, but he couldn't do it.

The death eaters advanced on Hermione and began to attack. Instead of attacking with spells, they began to punch and kick and claw. Draco felt like that was worse. They were going right down to the barbarism of human nature to hurt her. Hermione withered on the ground. She wasn't screaming, just trying to protect her face. Eventually she lost consciousness, and just lay limp on the ground. The death eaters didn't stop.

It seemed to go on forever. Eventually, one of the death eaters grabbed Hermione, and disaparated. The rest followed. Nott stayed for a few minutes to clean up evidence of the attack. Notably, he took Hermione's wand from the ground and cleaned up the blood. It was red.

No mud.

When Nott disaparated, the four visitors disappeared with him. They all reappeared in dark room that vaguely reminded Draco of the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. It was a dungeon, Draco realized after a second look. Stone walls, a barred door leading to a staircase. There were shackles on the wall, which some of the death eaters were busy attaching Hermione to. There was a small window opposite the staircase. Draco looked outside and saw nothing but sand. They definitely weren't in England anymore.

Potter was still avoiding looking at memory Hermione. He was staring out the small window. Draco stared at him shamelessly, trying to figure some things out. Memory Hermione was still unconscious, and the death eaters were doing nothing as they waited for her to wake up. Draco decided this was the perfect time to get some answers.

"Oi, Potter," Draco said. Potter turned and looked at him. He looked exhausted.

"What?" he replied. His voice sounded broken. Lifeless. Purposeless.

Potter-less.

"Did you really say those things to Hermione?" he asked. No memories Hermione looked up. She had been leaning on the wall, looking at her past-self in shackles.

Potter nodded slowly, looking down in shame. "I was angry… I wasn't thinking straight… I didn't mean any of it." Draco opened his mouth to reply, but no memories Hermione beat him to it.

"Why were you angry?"

Potter sighed. "You being at my house that night basically destroyed my friendship with Ron I was angry at you because of that."

"What happened?" Hermione asked.

Potter shrugged. And that's when Draco finally got fed up.

"Listen Potter," he nearly growled. "I'm done with these vague answers, these context stories, and the lack of real response. Some deep shit went down between the golden trio before Hermione disappeared. It had something to do with Ron and Hermione's lack of relationship, and you. Goddamn it Potter. What the hell happened?!"

Potter opened his mouth, probably to tell him to shut it, when no memories Hermione gasped.

Her face was white, and her eyes were wide. She began stuttering, but she looked as if she had seen the light for the first time. Turning to Potter, she managed to form words.

"I get it," she breathed. "I understand what happened." She turned to Potter, who was white as a sheet. "That's why Ron was mad. That's why you got mad at me. You didn't want to admit it. That's why you're no longer friends with Ron. It was me, wasn't it? It was always me."

Before Potter had a chance to respond, a wail filled the air. Past Hermione had woken up.

As she woke up, Draco got his first look at her face since before the attack. His breath hitched and he tried not to be sick.

Her entire face was bruised and bloody. Her nose looked absolutely shattered. One eye was so black she could barely open it. Her other eye was open a little bit, but her brown eye looked dead, emotionless. The rest of her body didn't look much better. Her clothes were ripped, and Draco could see the rest of the bruises on her body.

"Oh pet," the leader crooned, walking over to where Hermione was. He leaned down and smacked her across the face. Past Hermione flinched.

"What do you want with me?" she moaned, from her position slumped against the wall.

The leader cocked his head to the side. He knelt down. "I want you to hurt," he said roughly. "I want you to scream. I want you to wish for death, and wait for the relief that will never happen. I want you to cry for Potter, who will never come."

Hermione coughed, some blood trickling out of her mouth. "He'll come," she replied defiantly.

The leader cackled. "Let's test that theory."

Then the torture really began.

This wasn't the first time Draco had ever seen this. He had even caused it sometimes. It wasn't even the first time he had seen Hermione tortured. But what these men were doing (all the death eaters were men) wasn't at all like what Bellatrix had done.

This was ten times worse.

Draco could barely keep his breakfast down. They didn't use wands. Draco guessed there must've been a no magic zone on the room to stop Hermione from using wandless magic. But what they did still caused her to scream at the top of her lungs. They cut open her skin with knives dipped in poison. They punched her and kicked her. The smacked her head against the wall. And then they did it all again. The only thing that Draco was thankful for was that they never touched her.

Those bastards wouldn't touch a mudblood. They said it themselves. But Draco didn't particularly have an issue with it.

It seemed to go on forever. Hermione screamed out until her voice went hoarse. She screamed for Potter. She screamed for Weasel. She screamed for Dumbledore. The death eaters just laughed and carried on.

Eventually, the death eaters seemed to get bored. They stopped the torture and took a step back to admire their handiwork. Draco couldn't even look.

The leader spoke first. "That's enough for now. I want her to wait. I want her to pray for Potter. And I want her prayers to be in vain. Give her water and food once a day. Well, Miss Granger, we'll see you soon. And don't try to disapparate. There's an anti-exit ward on this room." With that, the death eaters swept out of the room. But Nott stayed behind. Apparently he had the task of watching Hermione. He stood in the shadows so she couldn't see him.

Hermione slumped against the wall. She could barely move. She looked ten times worse than she had beforehand. Tears began to run down her bruised and battered face. She started sobbing. Then she started stuttering. Draco, no memories Hermione, Potter and Kingsley leaned forward to hear what she was trying to say.

"Harry," she whispered, crying softly. Potter stiffened again. Hermione kept crying. "I don't know if you can hear me. You probably can't. But, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that I drove a wedge between you and Ron. I didn't mean to. I love you two so much. So very much. And Harry, if you don't want me in your life, I'll leave. I'll do it. But please. I'm strong, but I can't do this one alone. And you promised. You'd find me. You'd save me. And you showed me that promise. Please. I know you don't want to be the saviour. I know that. But I need you to be. For me. Please. Harry…" Hermione sobbed, crying out his name.

Crying for her saviour who would never come.

Potter fell to his knees. The boy who lived crawled forward so he was kneeling right before the Hermione chained to the wall. Potter was sobbing. He reached forward and tried to touch her, but his hand went right through. Potter sobbed even harder remembering that he was seven years too late.

"Hermione," he cried, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I broke my promise. I tried so hard to find you. I never stopped looking, ever. This is my fault. All my fault. I shouldn't have yelled at you. To save my friendship with Ron I sacrificed my friendship with you. Ron wasn't worth it. He wasn't. Everything I said to you was a lie. I care about you so much, Hermione. I love you so much. I want you in my life. I've always wanted you in my life. Having you gone for the last seven years has been hell. I wake up every day and I wish the world would just disappear. I don't care about anything. My job, my house, my relationships. I would've traded it all. But I couldn't. I couldn't do anything for you. I'm so sorry."

Potter bawled his eyes out. Draco felt very uncomfortable, as if he was watching something very intimate and private. He shifted uncomfortably. Potter was still crying. Draco had never seen him lose it like this before.

No memories Hermione began to walk towards Potter. Draco reached out to pull her back, but changed his mind. Hermione was the only one who could help Potter right now.

She walked over to him and knelt at his side. Tentatively, she put her arm on his back. When he didn't shove her off, she wrapped her arm fully around him and pulled him close. Potter was still crying as Hermione hugged him.

"I forgive you, Harry," she whispered. Potter sobbed.

"You don't know the full story, Hermione," he responded, choking on his sobs.

"But I do," Hermione responded. "Never underestimate a girl's ability to figure this stuff out. I know what happened."

Potter looked at the Hermione chained to the wall. "How do you know?"

Hermione gave a sad sort of smile. "I pay attention."

Potter turned and looked her in the eye. His eyes were brimming with tears. "I'm so sorry."

Hermione hugged him close. "I forgive you. For everything. For breaking your promise, for yelling at me, for not finding me. That wasn't your fault. You did everything you could. And she forgives you too," Hermione said, pointing at the Hermione on the wall. potter let out another sob. "When I get my memories back, I'll still forgive you, Harry."

Potter drew back and looked her in the eye. "I love you," he whispered.

Hermione smiled sadly. "If I had my memories, I'd love you too, but not the way you want me to."

Potter nodded, understanding. "I love you both ways, you know. I just want you back. I don't care about anything else."

Hermione hugged him and they sat there, Potter trying to calm down. Draco stood back, gaping, finally understanding what was going on.

This was it. This was the answer. How had he not seen it before? It was so obvious now that he thought about it. It explained everything.

Draco felt his mind explode he finally understood. All the puzzle pieces fell together. Everything he had seen that hadn't made sense suddenly did because he finally posessed that final piece of missing information.

This was why Weasel hated Potter. This is why the golden duo had fallen out. This is why Potter had been so ruined after Hermione had disappeared. This is what Potter and Weasel had been arguing about at the funeral. This is why Potter had been pissed about Hermione and him sleeping in the same bed. This was why Weaslette and Weasel kept eyeing Potter when Hermione was involved.

When Weaslette had talked about her brother never getting over Hermione, she hadn't been talking about her brother.

This was the goddamn context.

Potter was in love with Hermione.

Potter had lied to that bimbo reporter at the atrium. He did have feelings for Hermione. He had stronger feelings for her than he'd ever admit. This "sister" bullshit was just a cover. Draco had thought Potter and Hermione was absurd, but apparently, that assumption itself was absurd.

This is why Potter had threatened him after the Quidditch pitch incident.

At the Weasley's dinner table, that unknown emotion in Potter's eye, that was love. It was in Weasel's eyes too. They were both in love with their darling Gryffindor princess.

That's why Weaslette was so bitchy. That's why she told Potter at the funeral that he needed to move on. She was tired of being married to a man who was in love with someone else. Draco didn't particularly blame her. That's why she wasn't crying after the funeral while she grasped Potter so possessively. That's why when she, Potter and Weasel had found out that he and Hermione kissed in Canada, she had turned to monitor Potter's reaction.

She had probably spent seven years hating Hermione. That's why she sounded so fake all the time. She probably still cared about Hermione deep down, or at least had cared about her at one point in her life, but had spent so much time hating Hermione that she had forgotten.

When Weaslette had told Hermione that she supported him and Hermione, it didn't mean she supported the two of them. It meant that she wanted Hermione away from her husband.

That's what Potter had meant when he had said that the death eaters had ruined his relationships with Weasel and Weaslette by taking Hermione. With Hermione gone, Potter broke. It must've been obvious to everyone except Draco apparently that Potter loved her more than he had always said. Weasel and Weaslette had obviously not responded well to that.

The clues had been there all along. No memories Hermione had figured it out. How had Draco not? He had observed all of this, but he hadn't been able to piece these things together. Damn, he was dense.

But one question remained. Before the attack, how had Hermione felt about Potter? Draco felt fear creep up his neck. What if Hermione had been in love with Potter too? Maybe that was the reason she had said no to Weasel.

Draco was on the verge of a panic attack when the memory started to change.

They were back in the dungeon. It seemed to be at least a few weeks later. Hermione was still chained to the wall. She looked much different than she had beforehand. Her bruises were now yellow. Her cuts were healing. She had no new injuries. However, she was thinner. Draco could see that she had lost a lot of weight. She hadn't had that much weight to lose to begin with. She was so sickly and skinny that it hurt to look at her. She obviously wasn't getting much to eat.

The barred door opened, and Nott walked in carrying a slice of bread and a glass of water. Tucked between his arm and body was a newspaper.

Nott walked over to Hermione, who looked up as he approached. Her eyes were dead. Nott looked almost sympathetic. He lifted the water to her lips and she drank the entire glass. He then stuffed the bread in her mouth, and she ate it ravenously.

Once she had gulped it down she looked up at Nott. He was standing watching her, smirking.

"What do you want," her voice whispered. She sounded so hoarse.

Nott continued smirking. "Just wanted to let you know that Potter's still failing."

He threw the paper to the ground in front of Hermione. It was a Daily Prophet from seven years ago. However, Draco recognized it well. It was the Daily Prophet announcing the outcome of his trial. It also had a large section on Potter's search for Hermione. This was about two weeks after Hermione's disappearance.

The title appeared as POTTER CONTINUES SEARCH FOR HERMIONE GRANGER. It was accompanied by a picture of Potter looking exceptionally stressed, upset and angry at the ministry. Below that was a picture of him. It had only been his trial that day; his parents' were later that week. His title read DRACO MALFOY GOES FREE. It was accompanied by a picture of him leaving the ministry. He looked exhausted, tired, but joyful none the less.

Hermione looked down at the paper. She looked over the front page. She sighed and looked up defiantly.

"He'll come," she said.

"I doubt it, you mudblood bitch. You have no one." Nott started towards the door. As he left, Hermione spoke.

"I have him." She was looking at the paper and smiling. Nott snorted and locked the barred door. Hermione was still staring at the paper. The scene changed once again.

They were still in the dungeon. Draco guessed it was at least a month later, based on Hermione's recovered bruises and cuts, and how horribly thin and weak she looked. Draco was happy they weren't still beating her though.

The barred door banged open. In strode all seven of the death eater attackers. They were still wearing their masks. Draco had no idea who the leader was. But he was obviously the man in front.

Hermione looked down, ignoring them all. The leader laughed.

"Trying to ignore us, pet? Pretend we're not here? Good luck with that." The leader walked forward and smacked her across the face. "You look pretty healed up. About a month and a half will do that. But, that's not alright with me." With those words, the vicious attack on Hermione began once more.

Draco couldn't watch this time. He turned around and tried to block out the screaming. Potter and Kingsley did the same. Only no memories Hermione watched.

What felt like hours later, the screaming stopped. Draco turned around tentatively. Hermione was as bruised and broken as she had been a month and a half beforehand. The leader smirked.

"Unchain her," he ordered. Nott and another death eater unchained Hermione from the wall. Hermione slumped down, almost unconscious. Nott and the other held her up. The leader began walked out the door and up the stairs. The death eaters dragged Hermione up the stairs. The quartet followed.

They arrived in a large dark room covered with tapestries. There was almost no natural light. All of the tapestries lining the wall depicted scenes of torture. Draco shuddered.

Nott and the other threw Hermione to the ground. She stirred, and managed to slowly sit up. She opened one eye and glared at the death eaters.

"It doesn't matter how long it takes," she whispered. "Harry will find you. All of you."

The leader laughed. "I don't care about that. He may find us, but he'll never find you."

Hermione stiffened. "You're going to kill me?"

The leader shook his head. "No. Death is easy to get over. Loss isn't. And since I want to break Potter, loss is the way to go. No, my darling pet, you will live a long life, I'm sure. However, you won't live that life in the magical world. You won't even remember the magical world."

Hermione froze. "What do you mean?"

The leader smirked. "I'm going to take your memory, pet. You won't remember the world you didn't deserve to belong in in the first place. You won't remember Potter, and you definitely won't remember how he failed to safe you. Then I'm going to drop you off in the middle of nowhere. You can live. But Potter won't, because there's more to life than just breathing."

Hermione breath hitched, but then her expression changed. She suddenly looked determined. She closed her eyes and breathed in a few deep breaths. A strange buzzing filled the air, but the death eaters didn't seem to notice. Then the buzzing stopped. Hermione opened her eyes and her expression turned broken again.

"Who are you?" she shot at him. Draco looked at her. He guessed that the leader had never taken off his mask.

The leader chuckled. "Alright, pet. I'll give you that. You won't remember this anyway." The leader reached up and ripped off his mask, exposing his face for the first time.

Draco swore.

Yaxley.

Hermione recognized him easily. She turned white as she realized fully who her attacker was.

"Yes, pet," Yaxley crooned, seeing Hermione's recognition. "Haven't you missed me? When you, Potter and Weasel snuck into the ministry, I almost got you. But you slipped through my fingers. I swore I'd make you regret that. And now I have."

Yaxley leaned down and stroked her cheek. She bit at his fingers. He chuckled and stood back up. "Always fiery, this one."

Yaxley raised his wand and pointed it directly in her face. "Goodbye Ms. Granger. Or should I say, Ms. Mason." Hermione barely had time to close her eyes before Yaxley said the spell. A blinding white light filled the air. Draco, Potter, Kingsley, and no memories Hermione were thrown into the air. When the landed and opened their eyes, they were standing in the ministry of magic courtroom, all eyes on them.

Nott still sat in the middle of the courtroom. He looked somewhat smug. Draco felt anger bubble up his throat. He wanted to beat that man until he died from the sheer pain. Draco stepped forward, but Hermione beat him to it.

She stormed up to Nott. No one made an attempt to stop her. Nott looked bemused as Hermione stared down at him, angrier than Draco had ever seen her. Without hesitation, Hermione slapped him across the face.

The sound of the slap rang through the courtroom. Hermione raised her hand once more, and leaned forward. She hissed at him, her words carrying through the courtroom.

"Who is Hermione Mason?"

**Review my lovelies**


	31. Chapter 31

**Hello lovelies. Here we go again. Thank you all for the continuing support. I also want to sent a special shout-out to one reviewer, who gave one of the sweetest reviews I've ever read "_a__hhhLove_". Thank you very much. I read it five times.**

**Shout-outs to all the reviewers in general. I read every single one, and they all make me very happy. You guys are the best readers ever. I truly mean that.**

**Enough of that. Here's the chapter.**

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Hermione's question rang throughout the courtroom. Draco raised his eyebrows, and fought a strange desire to laugh. Out of everything that they had just seen, Hermione was most worried about her fake identity?

Nott looked surprised as well. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't that. He coughed once before responding.

"What's it to you?" He practically spat the words at her.

Hermione wasn't put out. She leaned forward and hissed at him so menacingly that the hairs on the back of Draco's neck stood straight up.

"Who was she?"

Neck sighed, though he looked slightly frightened. "She was just some girl who had your first name."

Hermione slapped him across the face again. No one interfered. "What did you do to her?"

There was a red handprint on the side of Nott's face now. He looked straight at Hermione when he spoke. "We kept you for so long because we wanted to find a girl with your name and age in some remote corner of the world. We found the Masons in Canada. It was perfect. So, we orchestrated a car accident for her and her family. Then we sent you to the hospital in her place."

Hermione was shaking with rage at this point. Her face was bright red, and her eyes were narrowed at her target. Leaning in towards Nott, she whispered. "You'll regret that." The words carried throughout the entire courtroom.

Hermione turned her back on Nott and stormed back to where Draco and Potter stood. She didn't make eye contact with them. She looked back up at Kingsley, who had taken his seat again.

Kingsley stared down at Nott with nothing but pure hatred on his face. It was strange to see Kingsley like that, for he was well known as a pacifist.

Kingsley glared down at the death eater, before raising his head and addressing the courtroom at large. Potter made his way back over to the auror section, and Draco and Hermione sat back down.

"My fellow ministry officials. I request that the memories of Nott Sr in relation to the Hermione Granger case be archived as evidence." A guard walked over to the pensieve and collected the memories.

"Nott Sr will now be tested with veritaserum to make sure his testimony was correct." Another guard walked over to Nott and dumped some veritaserum down his throat.

Kingsley stared down at Nott. "Nott, do you swear that these memories are true, and unedited?"

"Yes," Nott rasped.

"Are they the only memories you have that relate to the Hermione Granger case?"

"Yes."

Kingsley nodded. He had known they were true from the beginning. "Then, Mr Nott, we shall continue." Kingsley took a deep breath. He seemed to be deeply unsettled by what they had seen. Draco didn't blame him. Draco wouldn't be having a good night's sleep for a while.

The rest of the people in the courtroom were giving Kingsley their rapt attention. No one was moving. They were waiting for the minister to speak. Kingsley shifted through some papers in front of him before speaking.

He kept his eyes on his papers. "The contents of the memories were deeply unsettling. I won't describe them in detail, but I will give you all a brief overview. The memories demonstrated that seven death eaters attacked and captured Hermione Granger outside of Hogsmeade seven years ago. What are the names of the names of those death eaters, Mr Nott?"

Nott kept his eyes fixed on the ground. "Myself, Avery, Rodolphus Lestrange, Mulciber, Travers, Rowle, and Yaxley."

Draco swore under his breath. He knew all of those men, and he knew them all very well. They were merciless. They were monstrous. Draco wasn't sure any of them were sane.

Kingsley nodded. "Who brought the seven of you together?"

Nott stared at the ground. "Yaxley."

"Who led you all against Miss Granger?"

"Yaxley."

Kingsley evaluated Nott. "Would the attack have happened without Yaxley's influence?"

Nott shook his head. Murmurs filled the courtroom. Everyone was whispering to each other.

Kingsley banged his gavel, drawing order. Before Kingsley had the chance to say something else, a voice rose from the auror section.

"Permission to question Nott."

Damn Potter.

Kingsley considered this. "Granted."

Potter leaned forward in his seat, appraising the situation. Everyone's eyes were on him. Potter seemed to be attempting to understand something. When he spoke, he sounded very confused.

"Were any of you at the battle of Hogwarts?"

Draco raised his eyebrows. That was a very strange question, given the actual situation, though he did suppose it was valid. Potter wanted to know how these death eaters had escaped.

Nott shook his head. "Most of us had been sent away, to spread the influence of the Dark Lord in other countries."

Potter raised an eyebrow. "Most of you?"

Nott shrugged. "I'm fairly sure Yaxley was at the battle."

Potter glared at Nott. "How did he get away? I was almost certain all the death eaters at the battle of Hogwarts were captured. I assumed Hermione's attackers hadn't been there."

Draco considered that valid. He had been pretty sure that all the death eaters who had been present at the final battle had been caught. There had been so many left over to capture because only about half of all death eaters had been present that night. The dark lord had had many followers.

So how had Yaxley escaped? It would have been nearly impossible. Draco raked through his memory of that day. Yaxley had been there, he was sure of it. He had fought the death eater himself. That was until his parents had arrived…

"Oh fuck," Draco said. His voice carried through the courtroom.

Kingsley turned to him, and raised an annoyed eyebrow. "Anything to add, Malfoy?"

Kinglsey was eyeing Draco, waiting for a response. But Draco couldn't respond. He could barely breathe. He was staring forward at the wall, trying to wrap his mind around what he had just realized. But he couldn't.

He knew how Yaxley had escaped.

When the battle had recommenced, after Longbottom had cut Nagini in half, Yaxley had attacked Draco. Yaxley believed that he had betrayed the death eaters. Draco had defended himself, and a duel had erupted.

It had been a fairly even duel. Draco was able to hold his own. However, he had started to tire. Yaxley was going to win, Draco had known it. However, luck had been on Draco's side, or so it seemed at the time.

His parents had been searching for him, screaming his name as they ran through the great hall. They had eventually spotted him. Lucius, in an attempt to save his son, had sent a jinx at Yaxley. The death eater had stumbled, which gave Draco a chance.

They had been standing near the side of the Great Hall. When Yaxley had stumbled, Draco hadn't hesitated. He had sent a final jinx at Yaxley. This jinx was all Draco had left. It had been so powerful that it had sent Yaxley flying out the window.

Draco had assumed he'd been killed. But Draco had forgotten. He hadn't disarmed the death eater. Just sent him flying. Yaxley had his wand to cushion the fall.

That's how Yaxley had escaped the battle of Hogwarts. Draco had given him his ticket right out. The other death eaters hadn't escaped because they had all been trapped in the Great Hall when the Dark Lord had fallen. Yaxley hadn't been.

Because of Draco.

Draco felt suffocated as the full weight of that realization hit him. He had been the reason Yaxley had been on the loose. If Draco hadn't sent him out of the window, Yaxley would've still been in the Great Hall when the Dark Lord was killed. He would've been captured immediately. He wouldn't have been able to get a gang of death eaters together to get revenge on Potter.

He wouldn't have been able to take Hermione.

It was his fault that Hermione had been taken. No other death eater besides Yaxley had made an attempt to hurt her. Yaxley was the only one who was insane enough to do it. He had the motive, and with Draco's help, he had acquired the means.

Draco had basically kidnapped Hermione himself, or at least it felt like it. When he had sent that final jinx at Yaxley, he had considered using the killing curse. He had never killed of his own free will, but a death eater seemed like a good place to start. But he couldn't do it. He had settled on a powerful jinx, designed to knock Yaxley unconscious. It hadn't done that though, it had simply thrown him out the window. He could've ended it then and there.

But he hadn't.

When Draco had found Hermione in Canada, he had thought that he had been Hermione's saviour. After years, he had been the first person in the magical world to locate her. Potter hadn't done it, but Draco had. He had found her. He had saved her.

But he had condemned her as well.

All the events in their lives were so interconnected. One small mistake, one small choice can change the fate of everyone. It had been Draco's choice that had changed everything, though he would have never realized it at the time. He shouldn't be blaming himself, how would he have known? But it was Hermione. Just the idea that he had had some hand in helping her kidnappers nearly sent him to his knees.

He didn't want to deal with this revelation. It was crushing him. He turned and looked at Hermione. She was eyeing him strangely. Draco, without thought, reached out and stroked her face. A woman had never meant this much to him, except of course his mother, he mused softly. Hermione leaned into his hand. Draco swallowed hard. He turned back to Kingsley, and spoke. His voice quivered slightly as he addressed the minister.

"I know how Yaxley escaped." Saying the words out loud made them sound so much worse.

The courtroom filled with whispers once more. Kingsley banged the gavel.

"Well, Mr. Malfoy. Enlighten us. How did Yaxley escape the battle of Hogwarts?"

Draco stood up.

Draco opened his mouth. He almost copped out. But he couldn't. He needed to be truthful about this.

"I was duelling Yaxley during the final battle." The whispers filled the hall once more. Draco shot a look at the auror booth. Potter looked confused, and Blaise's jaw had dropped.

Kingsley stuttered over his words. "You duelled the leader of the attack on Hermione Granger?"

Draco nodded. "I duelled him, and I almost lost. But my father came and sent a jinx at the bastard…sorry, minister. Baboon. He was caught off guard. I then, using a powerful jinx, managed to send him flying out a window. That's how he escaped the battle of Hogwarts. He wasn't in the Great Hall when the Dark Lord fell."

Jaws dropped all around the room. Cameras from the reporters flashed. Hermione turned white. Kingsley tried to form words, but couldn't manage it. Potter looked dumbstruck, and Blaise looked mind-blown.

Well, fuck me, Draco thought.

Potter was the first to speak. "You are the reason Yaxley was out on the loose?" He sounded very angry, even by Potter standards.

"I thought he was captured," Draco muttered, though everyone could hear him. "I honestly haven't thought about Yaxley in seven years."

The courtroom grew silent for several moments. Then, strange laughter filled the air.

It was Nott. He was laughing so hard he had lost the ability to breath. The shackles were still restricting him from standing up, but his body was shaking with laughter.

"It's your fault, Malfoy," he choked out between guffaws. "I see you with that mudblood bitch. How does it feel to know it's your fault? We wouldn't have gone at her without Yaxley. You sent him right to us."

Draco felt the guilt once more. It was so painful he forgot how to breath. The courtroom had gone silent. But then, a voice sounded out.

"It wasn't Draco's fault."

It was Hermione.

She had turned away from him, and was looking straight at Nott. Her voice was soft.

Nott laughed in her face. "Sorry to break your heart, mudblood. But your lover here is at fault. Without him, we wouldn't even been here. Maybe he even planned it."

The courtroom filled with gasps. The accusation against Draco sounded in his ears, over and over again.

Hermione took several more steps forward. She had a strange expression on her face. "You're wrong." Her voice was so sure. "Draco didn't do this to me. You did." Her voice was so powerful. "Draco set Yaxley free, sure, but not on purpose. Draco didn't force you to raise your wand against me. He didn't make you attack me. You did that yourself. Don't blame another man for your evil."

Nott glared at Hermione, who was only a foot away from him now. Then he spat in her face.

The courtroom erupted in roars. Hermione didn't need that. She wiped the spit off her face, and punched Nott in the face.

The resounding crack that followed was Nott's nose breaking. The courtroom froze.

"That's for the Masons," she hissed. She returned to where Draco was standing, and she wrapped an arm around his waist. Cameras flashed. Draco pulled her close.

Draco looked around the room, and eventually his eyes landed on Potter. Boy wonder looked beyond angry as he looked at Draco and Hermione. But, with Draco's new revelation, that made sense.

Potter couldn't believe that Hermione kept on forgiving him. For the drawing room, the word mudblood, and now this. Potter had seen how terribly Draco had used to treat Hermione. It was killing him to see Hermione go back to Draco time and time again after he had hurt her. It probably killing Potter so much because he had only hurt Hermione once, and he had lost her for seven years. Draco hurt her multiple times and she came running back.

At least in Potter's eyes.

Kingsley had begun to talk to the courtroom. He was telling them about the memories. Oh yeah, Draco thought, they hadn't gotten to the memories yet.

"Seven death eaters attacked Ms. Granger out of Hogsmeade. She had lost her wand, and was too intoxicated to fight back. After a lengthy attack, the death eaters apparated Ms. Granger away to an unknown manor. Mr. Nott collected Ms. Granger's wand. Mr. Nott!" Kingsley exclaimed.

The death eater looked up. Kingsley spoke. "What happened to Ms. Granger's wand?"

Nott shrugged. "Destroyed it."

Draco clenched his hands at Nott's nonchalance.

Kingsley seemed angry as well. Glaring down at Nott, he asked. "Where did you take Ms. Granger?"

"The Yaxley family manor in Egypt." Some old wizarding families had multiple manors across the world.

Kingsley nodded, writing that down. "You held Ms. Granger there for how long?"

Nott thought for a moment. "About a month and a half," was his answer.

"Where did you bring her after that?"

Nott smirked. "We had found a muggle girl the mudblood's age in Canada with the same first name. The girl's family was moving to another city, so it was our chance. We orchestrated a car crash where the other girl, Hermione Mason, and her parents died. The mudblood was really bloody and bruised after her trip with us, so when we placed her at the scene with a fake ID, everyone thought she was Hermione Mason. The Masons had been really reclusive, so no one knew what this other Hermione looked like. It was perfect."

Kingsley tried to keep a poker face, but anyone could see the anger. "What did you do after you orchestrated this car crash?"

Nott kept smirking. "Well, the mudblood had no memory, which Yaxley had wiped. So when she ended up in the hospital in Canada, we just left her there."

"Why didn't you kill her?" That was Blaise, speaking up from the auror booth.

Nott turned to look at him. "We didn't want you to find a body. We wanted you to think there was still a chance she was alive. We wanted you to spend the rest of your lives searching, and lose in the end. Killing her would be too simple."

Kingsley took in several calming breaths. "Tell the courtroom what the point of Ms. Granger's kidnapping was."

Nott sat up a little straighter, and put on a pureblood smirk. "To ruin Harry Potter. He destroyed the Dark Lord, and needed to be punished. Potter always makes mistakes when it comes to love. It will be his downfall. We found the person he loved the most, and we took her away from him. I've seen the papers the last seven years, Potter was destroyed. His spirit crushed, and his hopes trampled. That was our purpose, and we accomplished it."

Potter had fought to keep a straight face throughout Nott's speech. Draco could see it though: boy wonder wanted to burn the death eater at the stake.

Kingsley glared down at the death eater smirking in the middle of the courtroom. Nott surely could see all the death stares he was getting from everyone in the room. However, the bastard didn't need to care, because he had his freedom.

Kingsley spoke, his voice booming out from the speaker's chair. "To summarize, Yaxley, who is imprisoned in Azkaban at the moment, led you and five others against Hermione Jean Granger. You captured her, and you tortured her mercilessly at the Yaxley manor in Egypt. Yaxley removed her memory, and you all left her in muggle Canada, in the place of a muggle girl of the same age and name, who you had killed. Do you admit all of this to be true?"

Nott smirked. "Yes."

Cameras clicked. The courtroom filled with whispers as all the officials spoke among themselves. Draco shot a look at the visitor's booth. The Weasleys looked murderous as they all sent death glares at Nott. The court scribe looked exhausted, having written down all the events that had occurred. The auror booth was also taking notes, to help them with their case. Blaise was discussing something quietly with the auror seated behind him. Potter was leaning forward, glaring at Nott, trying to make him disappear with his eyes. Kingsley was looking very angry, but trying to keep a straight face as he reigned over the courtroom. Draco and Hermione were sitting on their bench staring forward at Nott, trying to figure out what came next.

Suddenly, Potter stood up. All eyes turned to him. He glared at Nott, though Draco could see a smirk forming at his lips.

"Do you admit that all these events happened after the Battle of Hogwarts?" Draco could practically hear Potter's heart hammering.

Nott nodded smugly. "Yes, we caught the mudblood outside of Hogsmeade about a week after the battle."

Potter nodded, looking triumphant. Draco didn't get it, but Kingsley apparently did.

Kingsley looked surprised for a moment, and then began to think. After several moments, he began to smile. He nodded at Potter, who returned the nod and sat down.

The Minister for Magic stood up and stared down at Nott like a lion stared at their pray.

"The ministry only promised to offer you, Mr. Nott, your complete innocence in any death eater acts during the Wizarding War. The abduction of Hermione Granger took place one week after."

The smug look on Nott's face disappeared in a moment as he realized what Kingsley meant. He began to struggle against the shackles on his wrists. "No, no! We made a deal!" He sounded so terrified of what was about to happen that Draco almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

Kingsley smirked. Draco had never seen Kingsley smirk. It was terrifying.

"Mr. Nott," Kingsley boomed. Nott was still struggling in the chair. "The Wizarding War ended with the battle of Hogwarts. You have admitted to the abduction and torture of Hermione Granger, which occurred one week later. You tampered with a crime scene when you cleaned up Ms. Granger's spilt blood outside of Hogsmeade. You committed magical theft when you took Ms. Granger's wand against her will. You committed magical destruction when you destroyed said wand. The word mudblood has been outlawed, and you have said it more than five times today. You have also admitted to the murder of three muggles, whose names are as followed. Hermione Mason, Bradley Mason, and Anna Mason, from Canada. All of those are criminal offences and enough to keep you in Azkaban for the rest of your life."

Nott looked terrified and starting screaming at Kingsley. "NO! Don't send me back there! I'll do anything!"

"All those in favour of conviction?" Kingsley shouted above the screaming pureblood. The hands of every person in the room went up, including the visitor's booth, the reporters, Hermione and Draco.

Nott screamed, and Kingsley looked down at him in disgust.

"Take him back to his cell in Azkaban."

Two guards came forward, and grabbed onto Nott as the shackles released him. He was still struggling against the guards, but they were much stronger than he was.

They walked over to the doors they had entered through, but before they got there, the doors slammed open. A tall and thin man stumbled through the doorway. He had horn-rimmed glasses, and vivid red hair.

It was Prissy Weasley.

The old head boy of Hogwarts ran into the courtroom at full speed. He barrelled straight into the chair in the middle of the room. He managed to pull himself up. He stumbled over to where Draco and Hermione were still sitting. He was panting, and his face was bright red, matching his hair.

Kingsley looked down at Prissy, with a raised eyebrow.

"Minister, I have urgent news!" Prissy grasped on to Draco's shoulder, trying to catch his breath.

"Which is?" Kingsley asked. Everyone in the room seemed to lean forward, trying to hear what Prissy had to say.

Prissy finally caught his breath, and began to look up at Kingsley. For a split second, Draco and Prissy made eye contact. Draco's breath caught.

The look in Prissy's eyes was beyond fear. It was terror. Prissy wore the face of a man been hurt in a battle only to be told that the enemy was attacking again. Prissy was breathing hard not because he was exhausted, but because he was trying to calm himself down. His eyes told Draco that deep fears from the past had been reignited.

So, Draco grabbed Hermione and pulled her close. He didn't know how, but he knew what Prissy was going to say. Draco closed his eyes and cherished the few seconds he had with Hermione before Prissy spoke.

Prissy looked up at the minister. He took a deep breath and spoke. His words boomed throughout the courtroom.

"The walls of Azkaban have fallen. All the prisoners have escaped. All of them."

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	32. Chapter 32

**Hey guys! Here's the next chapter. Last chapter, I passed 500 reviews. That is incredibly insane. I am so beyond amazed. It's all thanks to you guys. Without you, I would never have the encouragement to write this story. Thank you so much. Honestly. My life is crazy, and this story is one of the only constants. And I love you guys for that.**

**Also, I've been editing chapters, and I discovered that I'm in love with commas. **

**Disclaimer: Just no. Never. **

_The walls of Azkaban have fallen. All the prisoners have escaped. All of them. _

The words bounced throughout the chamber. Everyone froze. Everyone tried to process what had been said, but no one could.

They had all lived in a time where escapes from Azkaban had happened often. They had lived in a time where dangerous beings walked the streets of Diagon Alley. They had lived in a time when one being controlled them all, and could end their life in an instant if he so pleased.

But that time of darkness had been seven years ago. No one ever forgets tragedy. The images from the war would be permanently burned into Draco's mind. But everyone tried to forget. They pushed it to the back of their minds and ignored it. They lived in the utopia of life nowadays and they pretended life had always been that way.

But it hadn't.

Draco felt as though they had been transported seven years into the past. The terror, the fear that had been their lives suddenly came crashing back in. It felt as though it was 1998. Everyone in the room was trying to wrap their heads around that fact.

All the death eaters had escaped. Every single one.

Draco nearly passed out as he realized the full consequences of the breakout. Draco knew who was in Azkaban. Avery, Rodolphus Lestrange, Mulciber, Travers, Thorfinn Rowle.

And Yaxley.

Yaxley had caused the breakout, Draco just knew it. The bastard was going to try and get at Hermione. Draco looked at her and saw the fear in his heart reflected in her eyes. But the fear was soon replaced by determination.

He wasn't going to lose her.

Draco stood up and pulled Hermione with him. All the eyes in the room turned to them. Draco rushed across the chamber to the auror booth. Blaise and Potter were in the first row.

Draco leaned forward towards Blaise.

"We're going back to Malfoy Manor. The wards are some of the strongest in the world."

"Are you sure? All the death eaters used to be able to get through them."

Draco nodded. "My mother re-did them after the war. You have to be of Malfoy blood."

Blaise nodded quickly, looking from side to side as if the death eaters were already in the building.

Potter spoke up. "If you need me, Malfoy, I'll be at Grimmauld Place." Draco nodded. He had gone there once with Blaise.

Potter looked him right in the eye. Draco had never seen such potent fear in the eyes of the boy who lived. "Protect her on your life."

Draco nodded. "I will."

Potter nodded and turned to Hermione. She leaned across the wall of the booth and hugged Potter. Potter clung to her. But eventually, he had to let her go.

Draco looked up at Kingsley, who gestured to the door. Draco took Hermione's hand once more and led her across the chamber. As soon as they were out of the courtroom, Draco set out at a dead sprint, with Hermione at his side.

They reached the elevators, popped back up to the atrium, which was in chaos. The news of Azkaban must have reached them. Draco and Hermione went unnoticed as they wrapped their arms around each other and apparated away.

They landed on the lawn. They raced up to the manor. Draco felt as though the eyes of evil were watching him. They raced inside and up to the kitchen, where Narcissa was reading the paper. She looked up as they sprinted inside.

"Draco? Hermione? What's happened?" She had jumped up at the expressions on their faces.

"Azkaban, breakout," panted Draco, trying to catch his breath.

Narcissa turned white. She began to mouth her disbelief. Shakily, she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to comprehend. She braced herself against the table.

"How?" she whispered, shell-shocked.

Draco couldn't answer. He felt his legs give way and found that he was sitting on the ground.

He couldn't wrap his mind around what was happening. He felt so lost in his surroundings. The world suddenly became blurry.

Draco thought back to that fateful day when he had run into Hermione. It had only been about three weeks back. It felt like a lifetime ago. It had been.

When he had been drunk that night and had knocked over Hermione, he had been at a fork in the road. His life could have gone down two paths, even if he hadn't realised it at the time. He could've just left, and not cared. Or, he could've done what he did: helped her up.

What would've happened if Draco had just walked away from her without looking her in the eye?

When Draco had reached out his hand, he had chosen Hermione unknowingly. But what if he hadn't? What if he had ignored the woman he had knocked down? What if he had walked right past her? What if he had woken up the next morning, without any note, and just gone to work? What if he hadn't ran into her later that day? What if?

Draco's life was a big pile of what ifs, and everyday he questioned them. What if he had refused the Dark Lord? What if he had chosen the light? What if he hadn't hated muggleborns? What if he hadn't been a bully at school? What if he had stood up to his father to save his mother? What if? What if? What if? But of course, the biggest what if of all.

What if he hadn't found Hermione?

Draco really thought about it. What if he had just walked by her that night? He probably would've come back to England, and maybe gone to the funeral. But he most likely would've never thought about her again. Potter wouldn't have gotten his life back. Draco wouldn't have ever known that Potter loved this girl. Azkaban wouldn't have had a breakout. Draco knew that Hermione was the reason. Draco would've grown old, maybe found a nice girl and settled down. He would've died late one night many years from now. That was one path his life could've taken.

But it hadn't.

Instead, he had reached out his hand. He had looked down upon the face of Hermione Granger, the lost war heroine. He had discovered the magnificence of Tim Hortons. He had annoyed the crap out of a muggle Weasel. He had spoken about his un-dying respect for her at her funeral. He had re-introduced happiness to Potter's life. He had re-entered the drawing room. He had slept with Hermione in his arms. He had returned to Hogwarts, his home of six years. He had gone to dinner with the Weasleys. He had kissed Hermione with all the passion he possessed. He had started to fall for her.

Draco looked up from his place on the floor at where Hermione was standing. She was staring at him worriedly. Her face was white, and she was breathing quickly.

Hermione was the path Draco's life had chosen, or more like fate had chosen for him. As he looked her in the eye, he didn't mind. His life without Hermione would've been simple. Easy. It would've been what he had expected. But with Hermione in it, his life had taken some extraordinary turns.

It had been endless turmoil. Ups and downs, and even some round and rounds. Hermione had introduced him to the emotions that he had crushed down. Hermione had opened his mind. She had changed him.

Sure, his other life would've been easier. And there wouldn't be an entire prison's worth of prisoners on the loose.

But it wouldn't have had Hermione in it.

Draco couldn't bear that thought.

It was incredible how much of a difference one girl could make. This one girl, or woman, had completely altered his life. The two paths were so different, and Hermione had been the change. Draco no longer felt like his life revolved around him anymore. Every force in the universe kept pulling him back towards her. When one person becomes the centre of your life, you know the change in your life isn't temporary. It was permanent.

Hermione was permanently a part of him. It didn't matter how he felt about her, or she him. She had changed his life, and she had changed him. She had taught him bravery, sacrifice, and all those traits Gryffindors boasted about. It was as if she had made a handprint on his heart. At first glance, all handprints look the same. But Hermione's fingerprints were everything only she could bring to him. People had touched Draco's heart before. But this handprint was Hermione's. And it was forever.

Draco found the strength to stand up and walk over to Hermione. He pulled her close until he could feel her heart pounding. She grabbed for him too. They molded, becoming one. They needed to be one.

Narcissa spoke up then. "Draco, how many prisoners escaped?"

Draco looked her in the eye, over Hermione's head. "All of them."

Narcissa blanched further. "Are you sure?"

Draco nodded.

Narcissa swayed for a moment before she righted herself. She looked back at Draco for a moment before speaking. "Do you understand what this means?"

Draco wasn't sure what she meant, but before he could answer, Draco heard an almighty crash from below.

Draco almost passed out.

It was the doors slamming open.

He could hear a figure moving through the house downstairs. Draco turned to his mother, simultaneously drawing his wand and putting himself between Hermione and the door.

"How could they have gotten in? Only a Malfoy can enter the wards!"

Narcissa looked sad as she answered. "Exactly."

Draco was confused for a moment, then it hit him. He was just realizing how much of a dumbass he was, when the kitchen door slammed open.

Lucius.

Draco's father was standing in the doorway, or more accurately leaning on the doorframe. He was the only figure there, thank Merlin. Draco's father was panting as he tried to stand up. He was obviously very weak, and Draco believed it.

His long blonde hair was limp. His entire body seemed hollow. His bones were clearly visible through his translucent skin. His clothes were rags. He seemed to have lost all of his colour. Draco looked at his father's eyes, which were wide and terrified. But those eyes weren't on him.

They were fixed on Narcissa.

"Cissy," Lucius whispered. He sounded so pitiful and weak that Draco felt a twinge at his heartstrings.

But only a twinge.

"What do you want?" Draco boomed out. Lucius set his eyes on Draco for the first time. Then on Hermione. Then on Draco's protective stance. Lucius's eyes filled with a strange emotion. Almost pride.

Lucius stumbled forward a few steps. Draco pushed Hermione back a bit.

"I want to talk," Lucius whispered.

"Are you alone?" Draco said, making sure that Lucius couldn't get at any part of Hermione.

Lucius nodded his head. Then he fell to the ground. He sat there, pitifully, staring up at them.

Draco turned to his mother. She had drawn her wand. But she was crying as she looked at the weak image of the man she had loved.

"I thought you were insane," she choked.

Lucius shook his head. "Almost. But Azkaban makes everything worse. I'm saner out here than in there."

Narcissa choked on a few more sobs, before gaining control of herself.

"Why have you come?"

Lucius looked up at his wife. "I needed to explain," he whispered. "I needed to tell you the truth."

Narcissa lowered her wand a tad. She simply looked confused. "The truth about what?"

Lucius looked her in the eye. "Why I joined the Dark Lord."

Draco almost dropped his wand. Of all the things he expected his father to say, that was not one of them. Draco flashed back to what Narcissa had told Hermione about Lucius joining Voldemort.

_"Lucius got involved with him. I don't know why. It might've been for the power, maybe to protect us, maybe for some completely unrelated reason. Lucius became a death eater."_

Narcissa was staring down at Lucius with a strange and unreadable expression. Her wand was still pointed at him, so she obviously didn't completely trust him. But, Draco knew his mother. She wanted to know that more than anything.

Narcissa spoke up. "There was a reason? Besides power, you mean? Because it always seemed like power to me. You sure seemed to like inflicting your will and strength on people. I've had many bruises over the years to prove it." Her voice was ice cold by the end.

Lucius flinched. His face was filled with agony. "Cissy, I'm so sorry."

Narcissa laughed. It gave Draco goosebumps. It was vaguely reminiscent of Bellatrix.

"You're sorry? About what? About ruining our lives by joining the Dark Lord? About never loving your son? About hurting me, in more ways than the physical scars? About making me feel fear every time I turned a corner in my home, thinking you'd be there? About leaving us? About forgetting you loved me once? About what, Lucius? About what?"

Lucius's face was nearly torn open by the agony.

"About everything." He sounded broken. Who was Draco kidding? He was broken.

Narcissa sighed. In a much softer voice, she spoke. "What do you need to say, Lucius?"

Lucius looked her in the eye. "I joined for you."

Narcissa looked at her husband kneeling on the ground. She lowered her wand. Her face changed as she appraised Lucius. Draco didn't see his strong and relentless mother who had fought through everything. He saw a teenage girl, who had married the man she loved and then lost him to something she couldn't fight. Draco lost his ability to breath for a moment. He had never seen his mother like this.

"What do you mean?" her voice was soft and innocent.

Lucius looked a little hopeful at the change of tone. He didn't stand up, but he managed to sit a little straighter.

"When we first got married, what did you want more than anything?"

Narcissa ran a hand through her tanged hair. "I wanted a child…." She responded slowly.

Lucius took a deep breath before speaking. "Cissy," his voice was the gentlest Draco had ever heard it. He looked straight in her face. "I couldn't have children."

Narcissa's jaw dropped. Draco tried to point out that his presence proved the opposite, but he decided that probably wasn't the best idea.

Narcissa took a step towards Lucius. "What?" she barely whispered it.

Lucius stared at the ground. "I couldn't have children. I couldn't give you what you wanted the most in the world. It killed me inside, knowing how much you wanted this. I couldn't tell you. I knew it would've destroyed you. So I began to look for a way to fix it, fix me."

Draco's mind was running on overdrive. His father couldn't have children…. Narcissa wanted children. Lucius wanted to give them to her. Suddenly, click. Everything fell into place. Draco knew what had happened.

Lucius looked back up at Narcissa. "It's dark magic, Cissy, I hadn't realized. Becoming un-sterile is unnatural. It's complicated magic, nothing I could accomplish on my own. As soon as I realized that, I knew what I had to do."

Lucius sighed. "The Dark Lord promised me the cure. If I worked for him for seven years, he would cure me. He wanted a Malfoy. We were rich, cunning, and very influential. He needed me on his side to help with the infiltration of the ministry and the upper class of society. And lucky for him, he had something I needed desperately."

Narcissa looked as if she was about to pass out. Her eyes were open wide and she was trembling. Lucius continued his tale.

"So, I agreed. I'd work for him. Then at the end of seven years, we could have a child. Did you ever realize that the day Draco was conceived was exactly seven years after I joined the Death Eaters? That's the reason. That was the only reason."

"My original plan was to wait out the seven years, get the cure, and then leave with you. We would've gone far away and raised our son far away from the terrors of our world at the time. But I got in too deep. I began to like hurting the inferior, instead of just doing it because I needed to. I began to strive for power everywhere. I truly became a death eater."

"It was only around you, Cissy, that I felt like the man I once was. But, as the years dragged on, I even began to want power when it came to you. I wouldn't let you leave the manor without my permission because it made me feel powerful. When that began, I knew that I was gone."

"I didn't want to be that man, Cissy, I didn't. I wanted to be the man you fell in love with. I could see it in your eyes, you loved me. I couldn't bear it though, after how horrible I'd become. I grew hateful, trying to hate everyone else instead of myself. It was useless though. I ended up hating everyone else as well as myself."

"Then the seven years were up. The Dark Lord bestowed upon me the cure. We could finally have a child. But, when the moment came for me to decide whether to stay with the Dark Lord or not, I chose to stay. It had become such a part of me. It had been a drug. It was poisonous, evil and unnatural. But I couldn't live without it."

"I went home that night, and we finally were able to conceive our child. When you realized you were pregnant, you were filled with a blinding happiness that I hadn't known existed. I could see it on your face every time you looked at me. And I had made you that happy. I began to think to myself, maybe I wasn't that terrible if I had managed to make you that happy. I felt the old Lucius returning, though not all of me. I was too far gone."

"Then, the un-thinkable happened. The Dark Lord vanished, thanks to our friend Harry Potter. I became terrified. I had done some deplorable things in my time as a death eater. The Dark Lord was my only protection. Azkaban seemed like my future. Fear filled me. I had become so emotionless, filled with only hate and a lust for power. Fear was the first human emotion I had felt in a long time. It grounded me. I became myself again."

"But then, I wasn't sent to Azkaban. The fear disappeared. Then all that was left was the hate and power-lust. I was lost. And I hated myself for it. I hated myself for becoming this person. But then I began to try and hate myself less. I shifted the blame. And I shifted the blame to Draco."

Draco started. He had been listening to his father's story without other thought. But at his father's words, he lost focus.

Lucius shot him a look. His eyes were filled with self-hatred. "I hated him. I blamed him for me going dark. I figured it was his fault because the original reason was to un-sterilize myself."

Lucius pulled himself to his feet. He was wearing the face of a man who had finally given up. He was broken. Draco could see it. Yet, he spoke on.

Lucius took a deep breath and looked at Narcissa. "I joined the death eaters to give you a child. I wanted to give you your dream. I wanted you to be the happiest person in the world. I wanted you to love me even more than you already did. Then I lost myself, and I ruined us and our lives. It was all my fault, and I hate myself everyday because of it. If I can, I will fight everyday to make it up to you. I will leave and never see you again if that's what you want. I will throw myself off a cliff. I will do anything. Because that's how much I love you."

He used the present tense.

Narcissa was standing as still as a statue. There were tears streaming down her face. She began to shake, trying to control herself. Then she gave up. She let all the tears go. She took a few steps forward and latched herself onto Lucius, holding on to her true love. Holding onto her one and only.

Draco lowered his wand. He looked at his two parents holding each other. He felt something stir deep inside of himself. They were whispering quietly to each other. Narcissa was beaming, her tear streaked face seemed to be glowing. Lucius's face had lost all of the lines and hollowness it had received in Azkaban. He didn't look like the man he had pre-Azkaban. His face was fuller, more wholesome, more fatherly. At that thought, Draco realized something.

He was looking at what his family would have been like without Voldemort and the issue of Lucius's sterile state. This would've been his life if the Dark Lord hadn't infiltrated their home. His mother would have glowed like that every day. She would've always had the man she loved. Lucius would've treated her like the queen she was. He would've been a good father to Draco. Draco saw it now. The Lucius who was clutching his mother and crying would've been a good father. The love between his parents would've filled his life. They would've loved him nearly as much as they loved each other. Instead of a life of hate, it would've been love.

Draco felt a crushing sadness. He felt his eyes stinging as he held back tears. He eventually let the tears flow freely down his face, manliness be damned. He wept that day, standing with Hermione, watching his parents finally find each other again. He wept for what he had almost had. He wept for his lost life. He wept for the love he and his family had been deprived of. He wept for the childhood he had always wanted.

Draco took a few steps forward, leaving Hermione behind him. His mother and father opened his arms, and pulled him into a hug. There the Malfoys stood, all crying for different reasons. One for what they had found, one for what they had lost, and one for what they had never had to begin with that. In that moment, holding each other in the kitchen of Malfoy manor, they became a family.

After a few minutes they drew back. Lucius was still holding his mother, who was glowing. Lucius was smiling, a radiant, blinding smile. Draco was happy for the two of them. Then he remembered the circumstances.

"Dad," he said, addressing Lucius. The word dad felt foreign on his tongue, but natural at the same time. "What happened at Azkaban?"

Lucius grew solemn. "The Dementors were always more partial to the Dark Lord. Yaxley is a madman, but managed to convince them to step aside. And they did. For everyone."

Yaxley. Goddamn it. "Dad, this is important, do you know what Yaxley wants?"

"You know the answer already, Draco," Lucius replied. He turned and looked back at Hermione, who had been watching the scene with a gentle smile. "You are in grave danger, Miss Granger. You and my son need to go somewhere safer, immediately." Lucius had smiled when he had said 'my son'.

Draco turned to look at his father. "The manor has impenetrable wards. Where else would we be safer?"

Lucius shook his head. "Nothing is impenetrable, my son. Everything can break. No walls are solid. Nothing is permanent. Yaxley would head here first. He's seen the papers."

Draco's heart began to pound. His father was an amazing wizard. If he said Yaxley could break down the wards, Yaxley could break down the wards. Draco thought quickly, where would they go?

Hermione walked up behind him and grabbed his hand. He pulled her close to him.

"It's going to be fine," he murmured, stroking her hair.

Naricssa spoke up then. "Draco, you need more than magical barriers for Hermione. Yaxley is a madman. He could break any wall you put up. You need man power. You need people who will defend Hermione until their dying breath. You need…."

Narcissa was cut off then, for a shrilling noise had filled the air. Draco jumped about a metre in the air, and immediately pulled his wand back out.

It was the alarm for the wards.

"They're here," Draco said quickly, pulling Hermione close to him. Lucius did the same to Narcissa.

"Draco, you need to leave," his mother told him.

"What about you?" he asked her. He didn't want his parents to be left to the will of death eaters.

Narcissa smiled and looked at Lucius. "Lucius and I can go somewhere. We'll be fine." Lucius smiled down at his wife. It was amazing how different he looked than when he had first stumbled through the doorway.

Draco nodded. They would be alright as long as they left. But what would they do? Where would they go? His mother was right, they needed more than magical barriers. To beat Yaxley, they needed to fight with emotion. They needed those who would fight for Hermione because it was Hermione. They needed that protection, it was the only way she'd be safe…..

Fuck.

Draco sighed. "I know where to go. But we need to go now." Hermione nodded and wrapped herself around him.

Draco turned to his parents. "I hope to see you soon."

Narcissa nodded. Draco's mother and father smiled at him, love filling their faces.

"Good bye Draco," they said in almost perfect unison.

The four of them apparated away then, just as the wards at Malfoy manor fell.

Draco and Hermione landed in a square deep in London. Draco looked at all the townhouses surrounded the unkempt grassy square in the middle. He led Hermione up through one of the gates of a townhouse right in front of them. He then led her up the steps. He knocked on the door thrice, looking from side to side, making sure they were safe.

Hopefully Yaxley wouldn't come to number 12 Grimmauld Place.

**Review y'all**


	33. Chapter 33

**You guys are the most incredible readers ever. Know that. **

**I might not post next week, I have a crazy week planned. I apologize in advance for that.**

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The door burst open in front of Draco and Hermione. Potter looked at the two of them from the doorway. He gestured frantically and they stumbled into the house. Potter slammed the door behind them.

The entryway of number 12 was just as Draco remembered it: dark and gloomy. There was only one window in the entire hall. It was a moderately sized one near the door. However, it was covered by a curtain. Gloomy.

Potter didn't live here, Draco knew that. He and Weaslette owned a cottage somewhere in Godric's Hollow. Potter used Grimmauld Place for hiding from reporters. It had been re-equipped with the Fidelius Charm days after the war, and Kingsley was secret keeper.

Wordlessly, Potter lead Hermione and Draco down the hall into the kitchen. It was a little brighter in there. Potter turned towards them.

"What happened, you two? I thought you were going to the Manor." He sounded very worried.

Draco ran his hand through his hair. "My father came." Potter's jaw dropped.

"How did he get through the wards? I thought you said they were strong!" Potter sounded peeved.

Draco huffed. "He's a Malfoy. That's the condition for getting past the wards."

"That was not well planned."

"I know."

"Was that the reason you guys left?" Potter continued.

Draco shook his head. "The alarms for the wards went off. Someone else was trying to get in."

Potter looked around. "What about your mother?"

Draco thought of his father's story. "She's taken care of."

Potter didn't question this.

Hermione and Draco took places at the table while Potter bustled around. He eventually found them all mugs of butterbeer.

"It'll warm you up," boy wonder said, putting the mugs in front of Hermione and Draco.

They sipped in silence for several moments. Draco, feeling sufficiently warmer than he had when they had arrived, began to speak.

"Oi Potter." The boy who lived looked up. "Are you the only one here?"

Potter nodded. "Ginny went to stay at the burrow with her family. Ron too. Blaise is still at the ministry with Kingsley. I don't really talk to anyone else."

"I thought you didn't talk to Weasel anymore," Draco said, unable to keep it in.

Potter shrugged. "I don't. I only do when Ginny's there. She likes to believe that nothing ever happened. I don't want to break the illusion for her. I owe her that much."

"You obviously don't owe her much," Draco muttered. Potter raised his eyebrows. Oh shit, he had heard.

"Excuse me, Malfoy?" Potter asked. Draco could feel the tension rising.

"Well," Draco started, shrugging. "I mean, come on Potter! You've been married to this girl for years. During those years, your life has been pre-occupied with searching for the girl you're actually in love with," Potter's nostrils flared here. "I dislike Weaslette as much as the next guy, but I feel bad for her. She's in love with someone who's in love with someone else."

Potter shook his head. He looked angry. "She's not in love with me. She never was. She's in love with the boy who lived. Not Harry Potter. It's different."

Draco looked Potter right in the eye. "Well, how do you know?"

Potter opened his mouth to respond, but stopped. He didn't continue. He just closed his mouth slowly. He looked as if he had been slapped across the face. It seemed Draco had landed on the one question Potter just didn't have an answer for.

"I know you don't want to know what I think," Draco started, his voice rising slightly. "But I don't care. So I'm going to tell you. I think Weaslette loved you once. I think she fell in love with you during Hogwarts. Then, when you married her and were in love with Hermione, things changed. She wanted you to love her so desperately that she forgot she loved you. Now she's possessive, she's clingy, and she doesn't love you anymore. That was lost after years of not getting any love in return. I think she hates both you and Hermione now. Hermione, because she stole what Weaslette wanted. And you, because she loved you more than anything. You married her, but you didn't love her. Being reminded everyday of what she nearly had must have killed her inside."

Potter had become very pale. Draco thought boy wonder would've hit him. But there was no anger in his face. Another emotion was brewing. After a few seconds, Draco recognized it.

Guilt.

Hmm, Draco thought. Guess Potter had finally realized the truth.

Potter slumped down into his chair.

"You're right, Malfoy," he whispered.

Score one Draco.

Potter didn't look amused in the slightest. He looked tortured, guilty and ruined. The guilt of marrying a girl he didn't love who loved him had finally hit. Potter had been ignoring it by pretending that Weaslette didn't love him. Now, he didn't have that lie to protect him anymore.

Draco didn't want to be Potter right now.

Draco and Hermione stared at Potter's white face, as the boy who lived fought the emotions trying to crush him. Then Hermione spoke up. Her voice was soft.

"Why did you marry her then, if you didn't love her?"

Potter looked at Hermione. Her eyes seemed to draw the answers straight from his lips.

"To convince her and Ron that I wasn't in love with you."

Now Draco was confused. "They didn't know?"

Potter shrugged. "I never told them. But they kept asking. Even at the funeral, Ron was asking me. But I never told them the truth. I thought, if they didn't know, I might've been able to save my relationships with the two of them. I do still care about them both. Eventually, I had to marry Ginny to try and convince them. It obviously didn't work though."

Hermione tilted her head, looking over Potter. "Did you ever even like her?"

Potter nodded. "She's a great friend. I was interested in her in sixth year. We went out for a while. But, by the time the war was over, I had moved on. She hadn't."

Hermione thought over that for a moment. "You fell in love with me."

"Apparently so," sounded a voice from the doorway. Potter, Draco and Hermione whipped towards the door. Draco didn't even have the energy to swear anymore.

He was so done with Ronald Weasley.

Weasel was standing in the doorway. His face was bright red, with his ears smoking. From the look on his face, Draco could tell that he had heard their entire conversation. His red face was thinly veiling the pain and betrayal. Draco felt a small twinge of sympathy.

Weasel stormed into the kitchen. Potter jumped up, in preparation for meeting his once best friend. Boy wonder skidded back a few steps, getting ready for Weasel's rage. The ginger stopped a few feet away from Potter. He was practically radiating anger.

Weasel cocked his head at Potter, smirking. Draco could see the pain on his face, behind the smirk.

"So," Weasel started. His voice was malice filled. However, there was a slight quiver. "You've finally admitted it."

"Ron," Potter said pleadingly, but the Weasel cut across him.

"You were always in love with her, weren't you?" Weasel's voice was really shaking now. "When I left you two in the woods, you saw that as your chance, didn't you? That "she's like a sister" act was bullshit." The pain in his voice was evident. "When I destroyed the locket, you lied to my face. How could you lie to my face about this? Especially about this."

Draco could've sworn he saw tears in Weasel's eyes.

"For seven years, all you've done is lie to us! You married Ginny, for one. Do you have any idea how wrong that was?" Weasel was really crying now. Draco was confused. He was used to seeing an angry Weasel, not a hurt one. The Weasel in front of him was breaking. It was the betrayal of a best friend that was breaking him. This was a strange sight for Draco.

Weasel kept on going. "You promised me that Hermione was like a sister to you. You promised me, you bastard! No wonder I didn't believe your lies the night Hermione disappeared! You looked me in the eye and told me it meant nothing. How could you do that to your best friend?"

Weasel was screaming by the end. After his final sentence, he sobbed for several moments. Potter was still as a statue. His face was ripped open by pain.

"Wait," said a voice. Hermione. "What meant nothing?" Her question was followed by a potent pause.

Then the atmosphere in the room changed very quickly.

Weasel's look of pain changed completely. He turned to Hermione with a look of pure confusion. Draco recognized the face: it was the face that Weasel had worn every time they were in Potions.

"What?" Weasel asked, stunned.

Hermione looked at him. "You said that Harry had said that it had meant nothing. Well, what meant nothing?"

Weasel stared forward for several moments.

"You mean, you don't know?" Weasel said slowly, scratching his head, trying to understand.

Hermione shook her head. Potter flinched. The colour had returned to his face. Now, he looked frightened. Frightened of whatever Weasel was about to say.

"You don't know what the fight Harry and I the night you disappeared was about?"

Hermione shrugged. "I assume it was about me."

"But you don't know the details?" Hermione shook her head.

Weasel turned towards Potter. "You didn't tell her?" His voice was surprised. It also wasn't full of anger, pain and hate anymore. It was just a voice. It was Weasel's real voice. Draco hadn't heard it in a long time.

Potter shook his head. Weasel stared. "And you told her you were in love with her?"

Potter shook his head once again. Weasel raised an eyebrow. "She guessed."

Weasel stared. Draco was watching this exchange. Something had just changed. Weasel didn't have pain on his face anymore. For some reason, the fact that Potter hadn't told Hermione whatever changed everything. Weasel looked astounded, but most importantly, grateful.

Grateful. Now Draco was confused.

Hermione looked between the golden duo for a moment. "Well, what happened?"

Potter and Weasel looked at each other.

"Do you want to tell her, or should I?" asked Potter. Weasel gestured at Potter wordlessly. Weasel still looked astounded. Potter nodded, looking at the ground. He knew it needed to be him.

"Well Hermione, the night you disappeared, I was here. At Grimmauld Place. It was the house I was staying at. I was sitting in this kitchen, actually, when Ron came in. He looked really upset. Apparently you had told him that there was nothing happening between you two. He had thought you guys would get together after the final battle. But you hadn't."

Hermione shrugged, almost dismissively. "I know all this Harry."

Potter sighed. "Well, I had been trying to find a time to talk to him about something. It was important, and I knew it might've ruined our friendship. But it had to be said. I was going to do it when he was really relaxed or happy, but somehow, it just slipped out that night."

"What slipped out?" Hermione asked, but Draco didn't need to ask. Draco felt his face whiten and his jaw drop. He felt frozen.

He had put the clues together all by himself.

When Hermione had figured out that Potter was in love with her, she had said "never underestimate a girl's ability to figure this stuff out." She had been right. Women knew all about emotions and stuff. But guys could figure stuff out too. From the look on Potter's face, Draco knew what he was going to say. Draco suddenly remembered something. He remembered what he had told Potter when the boy wonder had considered not finding Hermione's memories.

_"Think of the best memory you've ever had with Hermione. Go on." Potter looked rather reluctant to do anything he said, but after a moment, Potter looked forward, and his face became rather blissful. Draco knew he got it._

_"Now that memory changed you, I assume?" Potter nodded slowly. "One of the happiest moments of your life?" Potter nodded again. "I know you, Potter. That memory is everything to you isn't it? Would you ever give it up?"_

_Potter shook his head. "Never."_

_"Do you want her to?" Potter sighed, and shook his head. "Exactly."_

_"As hard as it is for me to admit, you're right Malfoy. Hermione needs to know everything." Draco felt like Potter had some special secret meaning to that, but he didn't care enough to figure it out._

Draco had known all along.

When Hermione had been in the dungeon, she had cried for Potter. Now Draco remembered something specific she had said.

"_And you promised." Hermione cried. "You'd find me. You'd save me. And you showed me that promise."_

He had shown her, that was certain.

Weaslette had told Hermione about the time that she and Harry had spent alone in the woods after Weasel had left them.

"_You and Harry were left alone in the woods for two months by yourself," Ginny said. "I've asked Harry before what happened during those months, but he won't tell me. He says it's personal, but all I know is that you two were so much closer afterwards."_

They had definitely gotten closer.

Draco felt the blood rush out of his face as he fully realized what Potter was about to say. He had never imagined this. He had never guessed it. And yet, the clues were all there again. But this, this was unthinkable. This was unimaginable. This changed everything.

Potter sighed at Hermione, and looked at Weasel. Weasel didn't blink. The redhead was waiting for Potter to speak. Potter seemed a little pale as he turned back to Hermione.

Draco was breathing heavily. He didn't need the confirmation to know what had happened. But Hermione did. She still didn't know.

Potter spoke. "There was one night after Ron had left you and I alone in the woods during the final year of the war. You were so upset about Ron leaving. I tried to comfort you. So I made you a promise. That'd I never leave you. That I'd always find you. That I'd always save you. You were so thankful. Then, well, we…ummmm….."

Weasel cut in. With ice cold eyes, he spoke. "You had sex."

This was unimaginable.

Draco looked at Potter. Except they didn't have sex, he thought, almost blacking out in shock. They had made love. Potter had loved Hermione, and that had made all the difference.

Draco had banged countless girls. But it hadn't matter. He hadn't loved them. Potter had loved Hermione. And maybe Hermione had returned the feeling. That meant that what had happened that night was so much more than just sex. It had been a turning point for their relationship. It had changed everything. It was still changing everything.

Potter had started talking again. "After I told Ron, he exploded. But I had needed to tell him. It wasn't right to keep it quiet. He accused me of stealing you away from him. He screamed and screamed. Then he asked me the final question. Was I in love with you?"

Potter took a deep breath. "I knew I was. I had known I was since that night. But I couldn't lose Ron. So I lied. I said it was a mistake. A spur of the moment thing that had happened between two people who were lonely. I said that it meant nothing. That it had only happened once. That nothing was going on between us. That I wasn't in love with you."

"He started to believe me. I could see it. He was angry, hurt and betrayed, but I knew he would get over it eventually. But then you walked in, crying."

"Ron exploded. He assumed that we were meeting up behind his back. He screamed at you. You cried even more. He didn't find out until later that your parents had died. Eventually, after screaming at the two of us, and swearing never speak to us again, he stormed out. Then I screamed at you. I thought I had lost Ron, which I had. I was so worried about losing Ron that I had forgotten how I feel about you. Then you stumbled outside, and I lost you for seven years."

There was silence for several moments. Eventually, Draco broke the silence.

"I'm sorry Potter, I just…..but…...what...how?"

Potter stared at him. "I'm not explaining how sex works, Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean, Potter."

Potter stared forward. "She was upset. I was upset. We were alone. We both needed something to help us feel alive again. I didn't realize how much it had meant to me until afterwards."

There was silence.

Weasel spoke up. He spoke slowly, testing the waters. He sounded a lot younger than he actually was. "Harry, did you ever tell Hermione?"

Potter turned towards the man who had once been his best friend. "Tell her what?"

Weasel's voice was small. "That you were in love with her."

Potter didn't answer for a moment. The room was growing tenser and tenser. Draco found that he had stopped breathing.

If Potter had told Hermione the truth, then she would've known. And she would've had a response. Maybe she had loved him back. Maybe they actually were together before she disappeared. It would've made sense. Hermione had spent all her time with Potter after the battle. They could've easily been together without everyone knowing.

Or maybe she hadn't loved him. Maybe he was just her brother. She wasn't interested in Potter, or Weasel for that matter. She wanted someone else, or no one at all. Maybe for her, the sex was just sex. She might not have known the significance that it had held for Potter.

Maybe it was neither, or maybe it was both. That was the thing with Hermione Granger, she was always a mystery. Whether or not she was standing next to you, or had been missing for seven years. What she thought, what she felt, what she knew, what she didn't, what she hoped, what she feared. No one knew. But Draco wanted to. He wanted to know Hermione Granger. He wanted to understand the incredible woman who had shaped so many lives. Who had shaped him.

But first, he needed to know if Potter had ever told her.

Draco looked at Potter. The boy who lived's face was filled with regret. Slowly, but surely, Potter shook his head.

Draco began to breathe again.

Weasel gaped. "You never told her?"

"No."

"She didn't know?"

"No."

"What did she think that night meant then?"

Potter sighed. "She said it was a mistake. A spur of the moment thing that had happened between two people who were lonely. She said that it meant nothing. That it would only happened once. That nothing was going on between us. That she wasn't in love with me."

Draco's heart stuttered several times. Potter's words rang through his head. It was a mistake. A spur of the moment thing. Meant nothing. Only once. Nothing going on. Wasn't in love.

Hermione wasn't in love with Harry Potter.

The Weasel stuttered over his words. "She wasn't in love with you?" Potter shook his head. "And you never told her how you felt?"

"I didn't think it was right," Potter said softly.

Weasel cocked his head. "Why not?"

Potter looked his ex-best friend in the eye. "Because she was yours."

Dead silence filled the room. Weasel blinked several times, thinking over what Potter had just said. Draco was doing an internal happy dance. Hermione was just staring forward.

"Well, isn't this sweet?" sounded a voice from the doorway. Draco turned and groaned.

Fucking Weasleys and their issues with knocking during times of extreme stress when Azkaban has been broken out of.

Weaslette.

She strolled into the kitchen. Draco didn't know how long she had been standing there, but it had been long enough. She had tears in her eyes, and her face was flushed with anger.

"So," she said. Her voice quivered. From the tears or the rage, Draco didn't know. Potter was white as a sheet, looking at his wife. This would end badly. "The truth comes out. You loved that cheap slut. I guess I always knew. But, you slept with her. That I did not expect."

Potter turned to Weasel quickly. "You didn't tell her?"

Weasel shook his head quickly. "I only told her that Hermione had been at your house that night. Nothing else."

The lack of communication between these people was astounding.

Weaslette smirked, but her lip was trembling. "No, Ronald didn't tell me about you two. He told me that he suspected something was going on with you two. But nothing about your time in the woods."

Ronald looked apologetic. "I didn't want you to get hurt, Gin."

Weaslette let out a burst of laughter. Tears were flowing freely down her face now. "Not get hurt? Well that failed. I would've rather found out back then, when Harry and I weren't technically together. Not seven years later, when we were married."

Potter looked so phenomenally guilty. Weaslette turned to him.

"You never loved me did you?" Potter shook his head. Weaslette sobbed. "Then why did you marry me?"

Potter sighed, a self-loathing filled sigh. He looked up at everyone. "I thought that if you guys knew that I was in love with Hermione, you'd never speak to me again. I'd already lost Hermione, I couldn't lose two of my best friends. So, I did what I thought would convince you that I had no feelings for her."

Weaslette sobbed freely now. Draco felt a pang in his chest as he looked at her. He had never particularly liked Weaslette, but he felt nothing but pity for her right now. Her face was no longer clouded with anger. It was open, ripped open by pain. Draco looked at her face.

She was just a girl, Draco realized with a start. She wasn't a bitch at heart. She wasn't Weasel's somewhat hot little sister. She wasn't Potter's wife. She was just a girl. A girl who had been betrayed by the person she loved the most. A girl who had lost her best friend. A girl who had been hurt.

She was just a girl named Ginny.

Potter's face was ripped open as well. However, it was ripped open by pain and self-loathing. Draco sighed. Potter was a good person, but his choices were sometimes a little off. Didn't he realize that that if he had just been honest, he would never have hurt Ginny, or at least not as much?

However, to be fair, everything was easier in hindsight.

Weasel, Draco and Hermione had all backed up to the sides of the kitchen. Ginny and Potter were standing in front of each other. Ginny was sobbing freely. Potter was stiff as a board, frozen by the guilt. The golden couple was officially broken.

"Ginny," Potter said softly, starting forward, reaching for her. She jumped back, her eyes flashing.

"Don't touch me," her voice was low, emotionless. Potter backed off.

The tears were drying on her face. Ginny looked down at the ground, and took a deep breath. When she looked up, there was nothing but pure rage on her face.

"This is all your fault," she hissed. Potter started forward again, but Ginny wasn't looking at him.

She was looking at Hermione.

Oh shit.

Hermione looked at her nervously. "Ginny, I didn't know any of this until today."

Ginny laughed menacingly. "Yeah, I'm sure you just weren't paying attention when you two had sex."

Draco reached out to pull Hermione back to the safety of his arms. But when he touched her, he jumped back. Her skin was scalding hot. Draco looked up.

Ginny had her wand out.

Everyone froze. Potter looked around. His wand was at the other side of the kitchen, on the other side of Ginny; he would never reach it in time.

Weasel and Draco felt for their pockets. Ginny screeched. She flicked her wand, and the two men were thrown down to the floor. Another flick of her wand, and Draco and Weasel's wands flew out of their pocket and into Ginny's waiting hand.

No one moved an inch. Ginny's face was wild. There was no sign of the broken girl from a few minutes before. Now, she was just a face of anger and rage. She practically looked inhuman.

Ginny sent a jinx at Hermione, which she managed to dodge narrowly. She had jumped into the middle of the kitchen. Potter jumped forward to shield Hermione from Ginny. Ginny laughed and sent a spell at Potter. He didn't have time to dodge, and promptly crumpled to the ground.

Weasel and Draco tried to jump up and help, but they soon discovered they couldn't move. Ginny had put a shield charm on them.

They couldn't help Hermione. Potter had crumpled, Weasel and Draco had the shield charm on them, and no one had a wand. Now it was just Ginny against Hermione. Seven years ago, Hermione could've won this fight in a heartbeat. But now, Hermione was wandless, with no memory of how to use magic.

Slim odds.

Ginny snarled. "You stupid bitch. Why did you have to sweep in and steal everything that's mine?"

"Ginny, I didn't steal anything." Hermione was trying to diffuse the situation.

Ginny laughed, a high pitch, hair raising laugh. "Of course you did! Harry was everything to me, you knew that! And you promised me! You'd watch out for him, keep him out of trouble. But you obviously didn't keep him out of much." With that, Ginny began to send more jinxes at Hermione. Hermione jumped around, dodging them all.

Draco's heart was pounding. Ginny had lost it, and Hermione couldn't defend herself anymore. This was dangerous. Ginny was beyond remembering that she loved Hermione. She was over the edge. She wanted someone else to hurt like she was hurting.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

"I don't love Harry!" Hermione shouted, dodging several more jinxes. Now Hermione was standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Behind her led the hall to the front door.

"It doesn't matter!" Ginny exploded. "He loved you! He's always loved you! You bitch! You promised me that nothing ever happened with you two! You promised me nothing would ever happen! I may have been his wife, but you were the love of his life. I'm done with pretending to mourn you! I hate you! I hate you for what you've done to everyone! Everyone in this room has been hurt by you!"

Hermione backed up into the hallway.

Ginny screamed some more. "I don't care if the death eaters find you! Maybe then you could stop ruining our lives! Why couldn't the death eaters have just killed you?"

Draco couldn't see Hermione anymore. She had backed up too far into the hallway. But he could hear her.

'Ginny," she whispered. "Please."

Ginny raised her wand, and sent a final jinx at Hermione. There was so much power in the spell that the whole house shook. Draco heard a crash, and a thump. But he couldn't hear Hermione.

In this moment, Ginny released the shield. Weasel, Draco, and Potter jumped up. Potter must have regained consciousness. The three of them ignored Ginny and rushed down the hall. Suddenly, they all skidded to a halt.

Ginny's spell had been so powerful that it had sent Hermione flying out that window near the door. She was in the street. Draco's heart stopped. The three men rushed to the door and ripped it open. Then they all froze in the doorway.

She wasn't alone.

Hermione wasn't crumpled on the street. She was standing up, or being forced to stand up. She had a hand over her mouth, and a wand to her neck. A tall man with blunt features held her in his arms. Draco recognized the face immediately.

Yaxley.

Behind them stood five other men. Avery, Rodolphus Lestrange, Mulciber, Travers, and Rowle. Draco realized with a start that it was the same group that had captured Hermione the first time, minus Nott, who was still at the ministry.

Yaxley smirked, and pushed his wand into Hermione's neck.

"Well, well, well. What a nice present to stumble across our path."

Draco was frozen. This couldn't be happening. Not again. This couldn't happen again.

Potter spoke up. "Let's all just calm down. No need to do anything drastic." His voice was obviously fear filled.

Potter was the stupidest person alive.

Yaxley laughed. It was a laugh that shook Draco to his core.

"No, I think it's the perfect time to do something drastic. Wouldn't you say the same, pet?" He crooned at Hermione, who flinched.

Draco made eye contact with Hermione. She looked terrified. She was trembling. Her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes, were wide with fear. But behind the fear, there was something brewing. An unknown emotion that came alive when she looked at Draco. Something that made his pulse quicken.

Hermione moved her eyes over to the Weasel and Potter. She seemed to exchange something with them as well. But soon enough, her eyes met Draco's once again.

"Let her go, Yaxley," Draco said. His voice was powerful. The death eaters all flinched. But not Yaxley.

He chuckled. He looked at Hermione. "Let's finish this the way we started, pet."

With a single pop, they all disappeared. Avery. Rodolphus Lestrange. Mulciber. Travers. Rowle. Yaxley.

And Hermione.

Draco screamed. He sprinted out onto the street, and looked in all directions. It was no use. They were gone

She was gone.

Again.

Her eyes were the last thing Draco saw before he lost consciousness.

**I know you guys hate me. Sorry. It was necessary.**


	34. Chapter 34

**I know I said I wasn't publishing this week, but you guys begged so much that I stayed up all night to do this for you. That's how much I love you all. It was a lot of work.**

**Also, 500 followers, 250 favourites. I can't even understand that fully. It's incredible. Thank you all. I am too tired to make a speech, but it's there. That number is insane, way more than I ever expected.**

**Sorry if there are grammar mistakes, no beta contact this week.**

**Disclaimer: let's not.**

Draco regained consciousness quickly. He was momentarily confused as to why he was lying in the middle of the street. But the memories flooded his mind soon enough.

Harry and Hermione. Ginny going crazy. Taking their wands. Hermione flying out the window. Then Yaxley. Hermione's eyes. The disappearance. With the memories, came the final bursting realization:

Hermione was gone.

Again.

Draco closed his eyes. He didn't want to think about this. He didn't want to deal with this. He didn't want this day to exist. Did it even have to? He wanted to go back in time. He wanted to be back at the Manor, with Hermione safe in his arms as they slept. No, he wanted to go further back. He wanted to be back in Canada, joking with Hermione in their Tim Hortons. Nope, that wasn't far enough. He wanted to be carefree, as he partied in Moscow. No, further. He wanted to be a teenage boy again. He wanted that one night of peace, before the third task. He wanted to sleep, not worrying about death or kidnap. He wanted his life back.

Draco felt a pang in his chest. Had he really just thought that? Did he really just wish that the last seventeen years didn't happen? Was it true? Did he really want to go all the way back? He did, he realized. He knew that. He did want his old life back. He wanted to be carefree again. He wanted to be a child again. He wanted to play with his friends, not speak at their funerals. He wanted to fly through the sky without worry of being followed. He wanted a name that didn't immediately remind people of the most terrible dark wizard of all time. He wanted the life he had had when he was thirteen. He wanted this all very, very badly.

But, there was one thing he wanted more.

He wanted Hermione.

He wanted Hermione. He wanted her safe in his arms. He wanted her smile to glow. He wanted her to laugh. He wanted her to love. He wanted her to live.

That's what he really and truly wanted.

Draco stood up.

Nothing else mattered right now. His entire world had blurred out. There was only one focus now. Getting Hermione back. Draco wanted a life. But Hermione actually deserved one. He would get it for her. He would do it if it killed him.

And it probably would.

Weasel and Potter were still standing in the doorway. They seemed to be in shock. Draco went over to them. They really were in shock. They were frozen, like statues. This wasn't a spell. This was loss. This was pain. This was something that neither of them could deal with. So they had shut down.

Draco wouldn't have that.

He pushed them both backwards into Grimmauld Place. He closed the door behind them.

When the Weasel and Potter hit the ground, they regained understanding. Their memories came back. They remembered what had happened. They remembered Hermione. The full realization seemed to set in. Then, they broke.

Potter sobbed, horrible, gut-wrenching sobs. Draco couldn't even look at him. Weasel stared emptily into space. His pain was beyond words.

"Listen up!" Draco nearly shouted at them. "We can't pause, even for a moment. We need to get help. We need to inform the ministry. We need to get her back."

Potter sobbed. "What's the use, Malfoy? She's probably already dead."

Draco shook his head. "She's not." He would've known.

Potter cried some more, but started to move anyway. Weasel stood up, as well. Draco looked at them. If they were able to work together, they could do this. Draco had to believe this. He couldn't even fathom the other possibility.

Over Weasel's shoulder, Draco saw a flash of movement. Draco ran to the kitchen. Ginny was there.

She was crying. Her face was open again. Not with pain, but with guilt. She was clutching herself.

She knew what she had done.

Draco looked at her coldly. "Give me back my wand."

She nodded, and handed him three wands. Weasel's, Potter's and his. Draco felt movement behind him. Potter and Weasel were there.

Ginny looked at Potter and Weasel. Crying, she spoke. "Harry, Ron….."

Potter cut her off. "Go away, Ginny." His voice was emotionless.

She flinched. "Harry….."

"Leave." The chosen one's voice was full of finality.

Ginny looked at them. "I'm sorry." She whispered the words, and apparated away.

Potter stared at the floor for several more moments. Then he turned to Draco and Weasel.

"How do we start?"

Weasel jumped in. "Everyone's at the burrow. Kingsley, my parents, Mcgonagall, Blaise. It's sort of the order headquarters right now."

Potter nodded. "Then that's where we go. We need the order."

The three men nodded. They all disaparated to the burrow.

They all landed in the yard outside the homely house. They were able to hear voices inside the house. They rushed inside.

Everyone was sitting in the living room. Kingsley was standing next to Blaise. Every Weasley ever, except Ginny, was sitting on chairs. Mcgonagall was discussing something with Hagrid, who had managed to fit inside. Fleur was holding her child again, whilst speaking with Longbottom and Looney. Seamus and Dean were there as well. It was Seamus who noticed them first.

"Oi, Draco, mate!" He shouted out. Everyone turned towards them. "Where's Her…" he trailed off.

Potter, Weasel and Draco all stood in the doorway. Everyone was pale as they looked at the trio.

They had been expecting a quartet.

Blaise spoke out first. "Where's Hermione?"

Draco looked at them all. "She was taken."

Mcgonagall spoke. "Taken?" Her voice was quivering. "What do you mean, taken?"

Potter spoke. "Yaxley has her."

The room froze. Everyone was white. They couldn't believe they were reliving this nightmare.

"How?" whispered Mama Weasley.

"Ask Ginny," Potter responded spitefully.

"Ginny?" Mama Weasley asked, confused. "What happened?"

Draco responded, as menancingly as he could. "She jinxed Hermione, sending her flying out a window, and straight into Yaxley's waiting arms."

Everyone flinched. Some had faces of disbelief, others anger.

Potter nodded. "That's true, but not important. Hermione is in the hands of Yaxley. And we have no idea where she is."

Kingsley spoke first. "Percy, owl the Daily Prophet. We need the entire wizarding world looking for her."

Prissy nodded, jumped up from his seat, and sprinted out the door.

Blaise spoke up. "I can't believe this is happening again."

Dean replied. "We can't let it be seven years this time around."

Potter scoffed. "She probably doesn't have seven years. I doubt that she has seven hours."

Draco shook his head. "We can't think like that."

"Why not?" asked Potter. His face had broken into pieces again. "It's the truth. Yaxley won't wait this time. He's not going to spend time finding the most hurtful way to get rid of Hermione. He's going to kill her. He'll make a long and self-righteous speech, because that's what death eaters do. Then, he'll cast the killing curse, and she'll be gone. We'll find the body. We'll bury her. We'll cry. We'll mourn for Hermione. For the Hermione we lost seven years ago. Because we didn't really get her back. We just got an imitation. An imitation that's going to be gone within the next hour."

Draco gaped for a moment. "An imitation? You think that's an imitation?" Potter nodded.

"She doesn't remember anything. She doesn't remember our stories, our moments, the times we laughed, or the times we cried. She doesn't know what we meant her, and how it came to be that she meant so much to us."

Draco couldn't understand what he was hearing. Potter didn't think that girl was Hermione Granger? How could someone think that it wasn't Hermione? The boy who lived apparently didn't understand Hermione as well as he did.

"You're wrong Potter," Draco responded. The boy who lived scoffed. "That girl is Hermione Granger. Don't you realize, you dolt? Hermione Granger is more than the experiences you all experienced together. She's more than her feelings. She's more than her magic. She's more than a war heroine. She's more than your best friend. Don't you realize what Hermione Granger is? She's a girl. She's a woman. She's a smart-aleck. She's a bookworm. She's a muggle-born. She's an activist. She's a worker. She's compassionate. She's caring. She's brave. She's lovely. She is love. She is everything. How dare you demean her by thinking the thing that makes her incredible is her experiences."

Potter glared at Draco through the tears that had once again appeared in his eyes. "I have to demean her. I can't realize what she is. Malfoy, don't you get it? I'm in love with this girl…." Gasps from everyone in the room. Except Kingsley and Blaise, who rolled their eyes. Potter choked on a sob. "I lost her once. It nearly killed me. Then I got her back. I can't lose her twice. So, I'm only going to lose her once. She never came back. Not in my mind. Because that wasn't her. It just wasn't."

Draco was fed up with the boy who lived. "That's bullshit and you know it. One day, you are going to have to face the fact that you lost her twice. But even worse, you are going to face the fact that you didn't try to save her. I don't care what you are going to do Potter, but I'm going to save Hermione. Because she can be saved. It's not over yet."

Potter laughed, a broken, sob-filled laugh. "It's over, Malfoy! Just admit it!"

Draco shook his head. "It can't be over. It's never going to be over!"

Potter glared at Draco. "Just give up. She's gone." Potter's voice was getting louder and louder.

Draco nearly shouted. "I'm not going to give up!"

Potter yelled right back at him. "It's pointless! Hermione Granger is gone! Move on!"

"I won't!"

"Why the fuck not?!"

"Because I'm in love with her!"

Draco screamed at the top of his lungs. The house shook from the noise of it. Birds flew off the trees outside. A frog jumped into the pound. The gnomes scuttled back into their holes. The wind changed directions. A few pebbles fell down a hill. The moon in the sky flashed brighter. The stars twinkled. The constellations spoke to each other. A comet flew through the night sky.

The world changed in that moment.

Everyone in the room was frozen. Draco's confession had rocked them all. Potter's eye was twitching. Weasel was white faced. Blaise was rolling his eyes. He had probably known this before Draco.

Draco took several deep breaths. He didn't know why he had shouted that out. He hadn't planned on it. It had just come out. But, Draco knew it was true.

He had fallen in love with Hermione Granger. He had fallen in love with the Gryffindor Princess, the bookworm, the war heroine, the woman. Draco closed his eyes. He pictured her face in his mind.

He couldn't deny it as he saw her in his head. He loved every part of her. The way she laughed. The twinkle in her eyes. The way her hair curled around her shoulders. He loved her.

He loved her brain, the way she always wanted to learn. He loved her heart, the way she always stood up for everyone. The way she fought for what she believed in. He loved her.

He loved the way she had walked into the Yule Ball, nervous, but glowing. He loved the way she had fought during the final battle: strong, like an amazon. He loved the way she had chuckled when he had knocked her over in Canada. He loved the way her eyes had brightened when she had rediscovered magic: bright, filled with childlike wonder. He loved the way her eyes grew more intense when they kissed. He loved the feeling of her lips on his.

Draco had known that Hermione Granger had changed him. He had known that his life would change because of her. He hadn't realized how much. She had left a handprint on his heart that would never ever fade. She would be with him, always. She would teach him forever. She would continually make him a better person. Forever and always.

Draco didn't know when he had fallen in love with her. She had only been back a month. That seemed a little too fast to fall in love. Draco realized with a start that it was too fast. But he was in love with her anyway.

Draco's heart stopped and restarted as he realized what that meant: he had always loved her, far before Canada.

Draco had fallen in love with Hermione years ago. He had just never admitted it, not even to himself.

Draco thought for a moment. He suddenly remembered what had happened at the gala when he was explaining Hermione. He let himself be taken over by the memory.

_Draco stopped talking just then. He gripped the table once more. All of his memories of Granger seemed to be flashing through his mind as he stared out into space. The first time he had ever seen her, a little bushy haired and bucktoothed girl who ran up to the sorting hat and jammed it on her head. The time she had told him off when he had just became the Slytherin seeker and in response, he called her a mudblood, for the first time of many. She punched him in the face, changing his view of her forever. He felt the curse fly through the air from the time he made her two front teeth grow substantially. He felt the shock from when he had seen her walk into the Yule Ball on Victor Krum's arm. The time when she stopped the boys from antagonizing him after he had been made a member of the inquisitorial squad. Then, he saw when she, Potter and weasel were all brought to Malfoy Manor. He had lied when asked if he recognized them. Immediately after, he had been forced to watch Hermione as she screamed and withered in agony on to floor. He saw all of this in less than a second._

When he had seen her for the first time, she had interested him. She had quickly fallen in with Potter and Weasel. He had been disgusted. Looking back, he realized it was because he wished it had been him.

He had called her a mudblood, and felt a stabbing pang of regret. He had ignored it at the time.

She had punched him in the face. It had impressed him.

He had always watched her, standing back a little bit. He had noticed her. He had begun to understand her.

When had everything changed? Draco thought back. The Yule Ball. It had been the Yule Ball. He had fallen in love with Hermione at the Yule Ball. That moment when she had walked in. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Not because she looked beautiful. There were tons of beautiful girls, not like Hermione, though. It was because of her confidence. It had struck Draco. That was the moment. That was the moment when he had fallen in love with Hermione Granger.

He had always loved her. He had loved her when she had been brought to the Manor. That's why he hadn't identified them. He couldn't bear to lose her. That's why that nightmare haunted him. Seeing the girl he loved tortured had almost destroyed him. Of course it had stayed with him.

That's why he had cried when the paper had announced her disappearance.

That's why she had always seemed to be a part of his life.

Because he had fallen in love with Hermione Granger.

Earlier, he had wished that he could go back in time. That he could be a teenager again. He had wished that he could've had his life back, his life from before the third task. He wanted that so much. He wanted that so he could realize he loved Hermione Granger back when he actually fell in love with her.

His entire world changed when he had screamed out the truth. The colours seemed to brighten. The dark seemed to disappeared. His guilt seemed to grow less heavy. His happiness seemed to increase. Everything came back into focus.

Because that's what love did for you: changed your life, for the better.

Draco Malfoy loved Hermione Granger. There was no turning back. There was no forgetting. From this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish 'till death do they part. He was in love with the most incredible woman he had ever known.

He hoped she'd be alive long enough to know.

Draco looked around at the faces of the people in the room. Blaise was smirking. Kingsley was confused. Mcgonagall was smiling. All the various Weasleys looked dumb-founded. Weasel himself looked angry. Potter had a blank expression. Seamus was regretfully giving Dean a galleon. Hagrid was shell-shocked. Longbottom kept opening and closing his mouth. Looney was beaming. Draco guessed that she had known all along. She seemed to know these things.

"You love her?" Potter asked, his voice emotionless. He hadn't seemed to process it yet.

Draco nodded. There were several gasps from around the room. Draco ignored them. "I think I always have."

Weasel opened his mouth, probably to say something catty, but his mother shushed him. She was smiling at Draco, a tear in her eye.

"There's always room for a little more love in the world," Mama Weasley smiled.

"Dumbledore would be proud," Kingsley's voice rumbled. Draco smiled a bit.

Longbottom spoke next. He stuttered for several moments before successfully speaking coherent words. "Guys, remember Hermione."

How could they ever forget?

"Yes, Neville," Kingsley spoke. The minister looked at Draco for several moments, as if looking for confirmation that it was alright to move on. Draco nodded. Kingsley nodded right back, and looked at the arriving trio. "Could you three tell us exactly what happened?"

Potter was staring at Draco, dumbfounded. But, as soon as Kingsley spoke, he launched into the story.

Draco took a mental step back as Potter told the story. He couldn't bear to relive it. So instead, he put himself mentally in another place. In his head, he ended up with Hermione. He was just holding her. Holding her, and knowing he loved her. Draco hoped this would happen. He wanted this. He wanted this so much. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to shout it from the mountain tops. He sounded so cheesy to himself, but he didn't care. For a few moments, he was happy, living with Hermione in his head.

But, all fantasies end.

"Then they all disappeared," Potter concluded after several minutes. Draco looked at the various reactions. He eyes seemed to land on Mama Weasley. She had tear tracks on her face.

"I can't believe it," Mama whispered. "How could Ginny have done that?"

Papa Weasley wrapped an arm around Mama's shoulders.

"She was hurt. People lose themselves when they are hurting," Papa murmured to Mama.

Potter's face was stony. "Let's not talk about Ginny right now."

Kingsley nodded solemnly. "Ginny is not important enough to think about right now. We need to focus on Hermione. She is our priority."

Draco thought about Kingsley's words for a moment. That was the problem, he realized with a start. Compared to Ginny, Hermione was always the priority. Ginny had shouted that Hermione stole everything from her. That wasn't true. But it seemed like Hermione had because she got all the attention. From Potter, from her brother, from the wizarding world at large.

Draco would've felt some pity for her if she wasn't such a psychotic bitch.

Kingsley continued speaking. "We need to figure out where she is. Now what did Yaxley say exactly? His words are the only clues we have."

Weasel spoke up. "Let's finish this the way we started, pet." Everyone flinched.

"The way we started," Kingsley mused. It was amazing how calm Kingsley was being. Draco knew that Kingsley was breaking on the inside, but someone had to stay collected. Draco glad it was Kingsley, because Draco wouldn't be able to.

Blaise spoke up. "Does that mean they're going to torture her again?" His voice quivered at the end. Draco started. He had never heard Blaise's voice quiver. Ever.

"Probably," Potter said, his voice malicious for a moment. "They might just repeat everything. Who knows? They might even erase her memory again. You never know with pyschopaths." Potter turned around and punched the wall suddenly. You could hear the crack from across the room. Everyone flinched.

"Damn it," Potter muttered. Kingsley swept across the room. Drawing his wand, he quickly healed Potter's broken hand.

"You need to calm down, Harry. We all do," Kingsley said softly, examining Potter's newly healed hand. "If we argue, Hermione dies. If we go off our rocker, Hermione dies. We need to stay cool and reasonable. We need to do this for her. She might still have time."

Potter ripped away his hand. "She doesn't have any time," Potter said harshly. "She's as good as dead."

Kingsley shook his head. "She's not. You said it yourself, you never know with psychopaths. Yaxley is a psychopath. It's not about the kill for him. It's about the story. It's about the plotline. That's why he erased her memory last time instead of killing her. He would've gotten the same result had he just killed her and buried the body. But he likes the mystery of it."

Potter glared at Kingsley. "So? He's probably just going to kill her this time."

Kingsley shook his head once again. "I don't think so. He's going to wait. He left us a clue, in case you've forgotten. _Let's finish this the way we started_. He wants us to find them."

Potter made a sound very similar to a wail. "Then he might just kill her the second we enter the room."

Kingsley sighed. "He won't. He wants a fight. He won't kill her until he has you, Harry, chained and injured."

"That's never going to happen," Potter snarled.

Kingsley looked at him. "Then have some hope." Potter looked down.

"I don't think I can," Potter muttered.

"God fucking damn it, Potter," Draco jumped in. He was tired of the boy who lived. "Don't you remember the funeral? Don't you remember what you said? You said you were never going to give up on her, because she would never going to give up on you. Has that changed? She still wouldn't give up on you."

Potter stared at Draco for several moments. The truth of Draco's words seemed to affect him. Then suddenly, his expression changed. Instead of the hopeless mess he had been moments before, there was a type of drive gleaming out from his features. There was power in his eyes. Draco was taken aback. This was something Draco hadn't seen in seven years.

This was the boy who lived.

Weasel walked over to where Draco and Potter were standing. They all met each other eyes. They stood in a circle. In that moment, they understood each other perfectly. They were all very different people. They had spent different parts of their lives hating each other. But, underneath what they seemed to the others, they were the same. They were all men.

Men who loved Hermione.

Kingsley watched their exchange. "Now that we're all on the same page, I suggest a next step."

"Which is?" asked Blaise.

"I suggest we all go to bed," Kingsley said. There was an instant uproar.

"Sleep! You want us to sleep while Hermione's in that madman's hands?" That was Longbottom.

"Kingsley, are you off your rocker?" Blaise.

"What the fuck are you on?" Draco.

Kingsley held up his hands. "Listen to me, everyone! It has been one of the longest days imaginable. We aren't going to be able to help Hermione at all if we can barely keep our eyes open. We also have no idea where she is."

"Kingsley, there is no way we are just going to sleep while Hermione is being tortured or killed." Potter.

Kingsley sighed. "We need to. We can all sleep here and re-convene in the morning. We need the rest. Otherwise we won't be able to fight. Everyone, go to sleep. Find a bed, and sleep."

"Kingsley," Potter started, but the minister was fed up.

"Listen everyone! We need the rest. We don't know where she is, and even if we did, we couldn't fight off death eaters in this state. I am the minister for magic. I don't usually bring this up, but I am now. You are all officially ordered to go to sleep. No questions. No buts. Go to sleep."

Kingsley was now standing solidly. He was radiating the authority of the minister for magic. Draco knew they couldn't argue. Everyone realized it as well. A lot of angry murmuring filled the air. Draco heard a lot of swear words, as well as the ultimate question: what did Yaxley's clue mean? Let's finish the way we started. People were murmuring words of torture and memory theft. Draco blocked out the murmurs. He suddenly felt very light-headed. Maybe Kingsley was right, they did need sleep.

Draco turned from the living room. He didn't want to speak with anyone. He walked to the staircase and up to the first floor. He found the first room he could and turned in.

It was a small room, with two beds. It didn't look like it had been cleaned in a while. The beds were dust covered. Draco sighed. He walked over to one bed that looked rather cosy. Draco bent over and grabbed the sheets. He shook them out. The dust flew up into the air.

Draco sat down on the bed and stared at the wall for a while. Hermione's face was flashing through his mind over and over again. The face of the girl he loved.

When Draco was younger, he didn't think he would ever fall in love. It didn't seem like he ever would. He didn't really form any emotional attachments with his girlfriends. He didn't really want to spend more than a few months with them. He couldn't even imagine being so attached to someone as to want to spend the rest of your life with them.

But then Hermione burst into his life. It was like his life was just a night sky. Then Hermione was the sunrise. The light was so blinding and miraculous. He had thought the dark would never end. Hermione seemed to be his salvation. She was his sun, the light of his life. Draco could never see himself loving anyone but her.

Draco lay down. He wrapped the sheets around himself. He wanted her back. He wanted her in his arms, safe in this bed. He wanted her to smile at him. He wanted her to hug him and tell him that everything was going to be alright. He wanted to brush a piece of hair out of her face. He wanted to sit with her and just talk for hours, like they had in Canada.

Hermione understood him on a level that no one else ever had. Draco felt tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. He wanted her safe. If he ever got his hands on Yaxley, he'd rip the bastard to pieces with his own hands.

The tears began to run down his face. He felt like his heart was breaking into a thousand pieces. His thoughts were only about her. Hermione. Where was she? Was she safe? Was she even alive?

Yaxley's words were running through his head. _Let's finish this the way we started, pet. _What did it mean? That question and Hermione's face were the two things clouding his mind as he uneasily drifted off to sleep.

His dreams were restless. He ended up in the Yaxley Manor in Egypt. He was in the centre room where Hermione had lost her memory. Hermione herself was stuck in an hourglass in the middle of the room. The sand was falling onto her. Her time was running out. Yaxley burst out of the shadows. He stood before Draco and tortured Hermione. She screamed. Draco tried to fight him, but the Malfoy heir couldn't reach the death eater. Draco turned from Yaxley and tried to break the hourglass and get her out, but he couldn't. Hermione met his eyes, screaming. There was only hate in her eyes. She was screaming at him. Yaxley kept torturing her. Eventually, Hermione lost consciousness from the pain. She fell down onto the sand. The sand still falling covered her until Draco couldn't see her anymore. He pounded on the glass, crying. Yaxley laughed. The final grain of sand fell as Draco woke up. "The way we started" was echoing through his head.

Draco sat up. His heart was pounding and he was sweating. The way we started. Finish this the way they started. They had been thinking about it all wrong.

Draco jumped up from his bed. Without a moment of hesitation, he sprinted out of the room and onto the landing. He was disoriented for a moment. He spun around in a circle, and located the stairs leading down to the living room. That's where they'd all be. He ran down the stairs, five at a time. His head was pounding, but he powered on. He crashed into the living room, panting.

Weasel, Potter, Blaise and Kingsley were in there, arguing. Draco could see the paper on the table. MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN, HERMIONE GRANGER KIDNAPPED read the title.

Everyone looked up and shut up as Draco skidded to a stop. None of them looked like they had slept a wink. They probably had, but the stress of losing Hermione didn't do well for one's appearance.

"Draco?" Kingsley asked, taking in Draco's erratic appearance.

"I figured it out," Draco burst out. Everyone froze.

"Do you mean….." Potter trailed off. Draco nodded several times.

"I know where to find Hermione."

**Here we go. Also, someone asked how many chapter were left. I honestly don't know, but I'd say less than 10. That's subject to change though. **


	35. Chapter 35

**Ok, you guys I am so sorry that's its been so long since I updated! It's exam season, so I've been very busy. But that's done, so expect updates regularily.**

**600 reviews guys! I'll make a speech later. Not in the mood.**

**We are almost at the end you guys.**

***I'm not going to specify, but before you read the chapter you guys should know: Don't lose hope. Just know that.***

**Disclaimer: I will never own Harry Potter.**

"I know where to find Hermione."

Draco's words rang out throughout the room. The four other men froze as they let the news sink it.

Potter spoke up first.

"Well, Malfoy. Where?"

Draco strode forward. He was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday: the black jeans and t-shirt he had worn to keep Hermione comfortable. Was it really only yesterday that he had awoken with her at his side?

"We've been thinking about it all wrong," he explained. "We thought that _the way we started _meant torture, or memory loss. We weren't thinking about it literally enough. It just meant location."

The information struck the men.

"She's at Yaxley Manor in Egypt," said Weasel, running a hand through his hair.

It was that simple.

Yaxley wanted this to be symbolic. He was just drawing parallels from the last time Hermione had been taken. He was writing the story again. Only the climax would change.

Death was always a striking climax.

Draco took some deep breaths. He flashed back to his dream; Hermione, stuck in the hourglass, screaming, as her time slowly ran out. No matter how much she screamed, the sand kept falling.

They were running out of time.

Kingsley nodded, murmuring softly to himself. "That's the clue. Yaxley Manor. What is it with death eaters and manors?"

Draco thought back to the drawing room. "Killing luxuriously. It's a lifestyle."

Blaise spoke up. "I'll send a message to the ministry. We can have a squad of aurors here in five."

Kingsley nodded. "Go Blaise." The Slytherin rushed out of the room. Kingsley turned to Draco. "Eat something Draco. You'll need your strength."

Draco nodded and jumped over to the fridge. He grabbed a pre-made sandwich and scarfed it down. It was gone in thirty seconds. Blaise came back fifteen seconds in.

The other men were strategizing.

Kingsley was speaking. "There are five others besides Yaxley that we know of. Do you think they would have been able to recruit more?"

Blaise shook his head. "The other escapers want freedom. They know we'll go for Yaxley's group first. They'll try and get as far away as possible. Also, I don't think anyone else is crazy enough to join him."

Potter nodded. "So we're up against six."

"Do they have wands?" Weasel asked, scratching his head.

Blaise nodded. "All prisoners wands are kept in a locked quarters at Azkaban. If they were able to break out, they were able to get their wands."

Draco butted in. "We can take six armed wizards."

Kingsley shook his head slightly. "Not alone. We have to wait for the other aurors. These men are crazy, and use spells that could kill us in a million ways."

Draco nodded. "So we go in full strength."

Blaise spoke up. "We can't. Yaxley's waiting for Harry, Ron and Draco. That's my bet. He wants to have you in his grasp. He wants to make his speech, and watch your faces feel the pain before the fight actually begins. If he thinks that there are any others, then he will kill her on the spot."

"So us three go in first," Potter summarized.

"Then, when the time is right, and Hermione isn't in immediate danger, the rest of us go in."

All the men nodded.

It was understood.

Just then, there was noise from the yard. Kingsley looked out of the window.

"The auror squad has arrived."

They rushed out into the yard. About ten aurors were standing there. Draco didn't recognize any of them. They all vaguely reminded him of mad-eye Moody: tough. A few had missing arms or legs. All were tattooed. There was one with an eye-patch.

These were the seasoned aurors. The extremely great.

These were the ones who could save Hermione.

They all circled up. Draco looked back at the house.

The windows were all filled with faces. Draco saw Mama and Papa Weasley, Looney, Longbottom, Oldest, Dragon, and George. Fleur was holding her child. Hagrid was standing at the side of the house.

All these people were watching them. Neither Potter nor Weasel turned around to say goodbye. None of those people expected them to. Everyone wanted the same thing. The fact that this might be the last time some of them saw the others dimmed with that wish. Everyone wanted Hermione back. They wanted her free. The selflessness of these people was incredible. They all wanted a little goodbye, a hug, a kiss on the cheek, a promise to return home safe. But they ignored it.

They wanted Hermione safe more than they wanted the promise.

Hermione. Her name sent Draco's heart at a fast pace. He could see her face in his mind. Beautiful, defiant, strong like an amazon. He felt like he could destroy Voldemort just by thinking her name.

There is a room in the Department of Mysteries that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature. It contained love.

Draco both understood and didn't understand why the door was kept locked. Such a powerful force should be contained. But this was a force that was both wonderful and terrible. Would the wonderful things that were done outweigh the terrible? Would the terrible destroy everything? You could both burn down the world and build it up in the name of love. Love takes you over and controls you. You would do anything for love. Was it a good thing that the door was locked in the Department of Mysteries?

Was it a good thing that, for some people, the door was locked within themselves?

Draco's door was locked for a long time. Love was there, locked away at the back of his heart and mind. Then Hermione came. She was the key. She unlocked his door. Now, Draco feared, if she didn't come back, would his door lock for good?

"Alright, men," Kingsley said. He looked them all in the eye. "Harry, Ron and Draco go in first. When the time is right, Harry will signal."

Everyone nodded.

Kingsley looked around. "Men, this is one of the most important missions you will ever go on. It is also one of the most dangerous. Anyone who wants to back out now….." Kingsley's voice trailed off.

No one moved an inch.

There was a fierce determination on the faces of the aurors. Draco didn't know if any of them knew Hermione personally, but they obviously understood what Hermione meant to the wizarding world, and some people standing in the circle. These aurors would not fail.

Kingsley nodded. "Right then, men. An emergency port-key will be our transportation." Kingsley looked around the yard and spotted an old boot. He summoned it, and muttered a quick spell. The now port-key glowed bright blue. Everyone gathered around the it.

Draco stuck is index finger on the heel. He looked back at the house. He made eye contact with Looney. She nodded encouragingly.

Draco turned back to the boot. He hoped he would be able to return to the burrow one day.

The port-key glowed bright blue, blinding him for a moment. Then, with a whoosh, they were off.

The whole journey took only a few seconds. Draco landed with a thump, and fell back. He sat up quickly, his eyes adjusting to the bright light.

They were obviously in the desert. Sand stretched out in every direction. It was blowing over the dunes, narrowing the visibility range by a landslide. Draco could see a castle in the distance. It was in the shadow of the sun, directly behind it.

Yaxley Manor.

The aurors all circled together.

Kingsley turned to Potter, Weasel and Draco. "You three will apparate to the front gates. If the time is right, Harry, blow this whistle." He handed Potter a straight glass whistle. "It can only be heard by the maker. Lucky I made this one. We can be there in twenty seconds after the whistle is blown."

Potter nodded and pocketed the whistle. He turned and looked at Draco and Ron.

"Well…." But there was nothing else to say. They knew what they needed to do. They knew the consequence if they were to fail. Words wouldn't help or hinder their cause. They just needed action.

With a pop, they all apparated to the front of the manor. Draco landed with Potter on his right and Weasel on his left. Draco looked up. The manor was dark and menacing, the only shadow in the endless light.

Potter took a few steps forward and pushed on the gate. It gave way easily. Too easily.

Kingsley was right.

Yaxley wanted them there.

The three men walked down the path up to the manor door. Potter turned the door knob. Taking a deep breath, they all walked inside.

The arrived in the dark room from Nott's memories. The tapestries depicting torture still lined the walls. Draco shuddered.

They had come full circle.

A soft noise came from the opposite end of the room. Draco looked. All he saw was a table with a glass ball on it. It reminded Draco of the crystal balls they used to use in Divination. It had swirling red clouds within it. Draco could see images being formed, but they disappeared almost as quickly as they appeared.

The noise sounded out again.

Draco took a few steps forward.

Out of the shadows at the back of the room, came a figure cloaked in dark robes.

Yaxley.

The death eater had a sneer upon his face. His face was sunken and gaunt after years in Azkaban. His cheek bones were sticking out. His lips were chapped, and his eyes were crazy. The robes he was wearing hung over him in a way to suggest that his body was nothing but skin and bones.

In his right hand was his wand. Draco remembered it well. He had seen it kill many times over. The death eaters must have all gotten their wands back then. Yaxley's wand was pointing at a gagged figure he had just dragged across the ground.

A woman, with giant brown hair and the kindest heart Draco had ever known.

Hermione.

She had obviously been hurt. There were cuts and bruises across her face. Draco's fist clenched in anger as he eyed a particularly nasty bruised cut above her eye. It was as if she had had her face smashed into a wall.

She was gagged, but her eyes held more meaning then the death eaters would ever know.

They were screaming wordlessly at Draco.

Run.

But Draco wouldn't run. Not now. Not ever.

Not from her.

Draco heard a sudden movement from behind him. Draco turned quickly.

Out of a tapestry at the back of the room, a figure had appeared.

Avery.

The death eater smirked when he caught Draco's eyes.

Draco heard more movement from all around the room. Turning around the room, he had realized what had happened.

From different places around the room, death eaters appeared. They seemed to melt out of the tapestries. Lestrange. Rowle. Mulciber. Travers.

The three rescuers were surrounded.

A low laugh came from the front of the room.

Yaxley grabbed Hermione by the neck and hoisted her up. Draco realized her hands were tied.

Yaxley gave out his low laugh once more. "Looking for something?" His voice sounded like nails.

Potter spoke. His voice washed over the room. All the death eaters shivered. His voice contained true power, not the weak attempt the death eaters had.

"Don't make me kill you."

Only Yaxley didn't flinch. He just laughed.

"If you kill me, my pet dies too."

"Like hell," Weasel snarled.

Draco knew death eaters. There wouldn't be a fight for a few more moments. They always made a big speech. It made them feel superior. So instead of listening to Yaxley's speech, Draco felt his eyes wander to the glowing ball in the background.

Yaxley noticed Draco eyeing the ball. "Well, well, well. Malfoy notices things."

The other two looked at the crystal ball as well. Weasel's eyes opened in confusion, but Potter's opened in recognition.

Yaxley noticed it as well. "Malfoy may notice things, but Potter understands them."

"It's a memory ball," Potter whispered. The boy who lived took a slight step forward.

The death eater nodded. "Well done, Potter. It's indeed a memory ball."

Potter took another step forward. "Hermione told me about them once."

Yaxley smirked. "Of course she did. The little bitch thought she knew everything." With those words, he slapped her across the face.

White hot rage flew up through Draco, blinding him momentarily. Draco almost flew at Yaxley, but a voice sounded in his ear.

He's not worth it!

It was Weasel's voice.

Draco was thrown for a second. He caught a glance at Weasel. The ginger was angrily eyeing Yaxley, but made no sign that he was communicating with Draco. Then how did he hear it?

It sounded so familiar. Draco was sure he had heard Weasel say that before.

It must've been a memory.

Suddenly, it came back to Draco.

It was their third year. That hippogriff,( Buckweak?), had just been sentence to death. Draco was hiding in the stone circle with Crabbe and Goyle, waiting to watch the execution. Suddenly from behind them, had come a yell.

The golden trio was walking towards them. Hermione was storming, more accurately.

"You fowl, loathsome, evil, little cockroach!" she had shouted, brandishing a wand at his throat.

He had been terrified.

From behind her, Weasel had shouted. "Hermione, no! He's not worth it!"

Hermione had evaluated him for a moment, and lowered her wand. She had turned away.

Then turned back and punched him in the face.

That's what Draco needed to do now. Stay calm and collected. Not go running in, wands blazing. Evaluate the situation. Pretend to give up.

Then, when the moment was right, sock the mother fucker in the face.

Draco glared at Yaxley, as the death eater grinned triumphantly. He thought he had won.

Not a chance.

"Well, Potter, have you guessed what's in the memory ball?"

They all had.

"Hermione's memories," Weasel said slowly, eyes on the prize.

Yaxley nodded. "Every single one that I stole."

Weasel crouched into a fighting position. "We need to break that ball," he muttered.

Yaxley laughed. "Oh Weasley, do you ever read?"

No, Draco didn't think so either.

Yaxley continued. "If you break a memory ball, the memories disappear. Like smoke, forever in the air, but never tangible. Unable to be taken, by anyone."

Hermione looked in terror at the ball on the table.

Yaxley chuckled as he saw the terror on her face. "All those years of books and friends, gone, without a trace. Like you were. Until Mr. Malfoy stumbled into Canada."

Draco met the death eater's eyes. He saw nothing but hate within them, like a black fire, flickering behind the surface.

Next to him, Draco could almost hear Potter's brain working. The boy who lived had all the power in this situation. He had the whistle. He could have the other aurors in the room within thirty seconds. But the memory ball changed everything. They wanted Hermione alive, but they also wanted her back. They wanted those memories.

They needed to get that ball.

The death eater took a quick look at the ball, as if reading Draco's mind.

"Such a small thing," Yaxley said, gesturing towards the memory ball. "Yet, it's caused all of your problems for seven years now. Why would you want it to exist still? I'd want it gone. I think it's about time to say goodbye to this little piece of history."

Yaxley reached out his hand and picked up the memory ball.

Draco froze.

The death eater smirked as he brought the memory ball up from the table. He was going to break the it.

Next to him, Draco saw Potter reach for his pocket. A second later, the whistle was at his lips.

Thirty seconds.

Draco knew they didn't have a moment to lose. Without thinking, without processing what he was doing, he drew his wand.

Yaxley's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.

Weasel and Potter had also drawn their wands.

Twenty five.

Draco accio-ed the memory ball from Yaxley's hand. The death eater let it slip through his fingers. Sloppy reflexes.

The ball landed in Draco's out-stretched palm. In a moment, he realized what exactly he was holding in his hand.

Hermione's entire life: her dreams, her feelings, her fears, her worries, her experiences. Her memories were in the palm of his hand. This little ball was the reason for her disappearance. This little ball was the mystery that had enticed the wizarding world for seven years. This little ball was the reason she hadn't returned.

This little ball had almost ruined Potter's life.

This little ball had reduced Draco to tears.

This little ball had taken Hermione's life away from her.

For all the pain it had caused, Draco fought the urge to throw the ball at the wall, shattering it into a million pieces. But, he held back. He needed to hold back. The only way to destroy the pain was to create the joy.

Hermione needed her life back.

Twenty.

Now, it was time to act.

The death eaters attacked them immediately. Spells began to fly.

Draco jumped out of the line of fire. Looking quickly over his shoulder, he saw Weasel and Potter, back to back, fighting off the advancing death eaters. Six on two were not good odds.

But it was Potter and Weasel.

They had an advantage just by existing.

Draco turned forward. Yaxley was waiting with his wand drawn. Draco clutched Hermione's memories in his left hand and shot a curse at the death eater with his right.

Yaxley dodged narrowly, clearing a path from Draco to Hermione.

Fifteen seconds.

Draco made eye contact with Hermione. She was obviously terrified, but her eyes were happy.

Happy he was here to rescue her.

Draco didn't think as he raced forward towards Hermione. She was still on the ground. She held out her tied hands. Draco cast a quick spell, and her hands became unbound.

Ten seconds.

Suddenly, Draco felt something hit his side. Without warning, he was knocked from the ground, and sent flying through the air. He felt the memory ball slip out of his hand. He landed with a crash against one of the tapestries.

Looking up, his eyes went out of focus for a moment. When they stopped being fuzzy, Draco looked over at where he had been standing.

Yaxley was smirking standing, a few feet behind Hermione. He twiddled his wand. He must have hit Draco with a curse.

Hermione was standing up, with the memory ball in her hands. She must've caught it. Thank merlin.

Five seconds.

Draco met eye contact with Yaxley, and saw his eyes narrow. Without warning, the death eater raised his wand at Hermione's back.

Draco seemed to watch the moment in slow motion.

Yaxley sent a curse at Hermione. Surprise filled her face. She fell forward, knocked off of her feet.

Draco cried out, but was unable to move. His feet were stuck to the ground.

Hermione crashed to the floor. Her eyes fluttered closed. She lay still, unmoving. Whether unconscious, or ….. Draco couldn't even think it.

The memory ball had flown out of her hand when she had been hit. Up into the air it flew. Draco watched in horror as it fell to the ground.

Crashing into a million pieces.

A few puffs of smoke rose from the glass shards. But, in a moment, they were gone.

As if they'd never existed in the first place.

Draco couldn't believe it. All that worry, all those wishes, all that want, and in five seconds, all gone. Hermione's memories were gone. Draco felt tears stinging the back of his eyes.

Suddenly, the doors to the dark room burst open.

The auror squad had arrived.

Draco's eyes landed on the broken memory ball.

If only they had arrived five seconds earlier.

**Review my lovelies. I apologize. See star at the beginning**


	36. Chapter 36

**Hey guys! I know it hasn't been a week, but I feel really bad about making you guys wait three weeks for the last chapter, so I got this to you as soon as possible.**

**We are almost at the end of our journey together. Less than 5 chapters left.**

**I hope you all know how incredible this experience has been for me. Thank you for sticking with me during it.**

**It doesn't matter who was here first, but who has stayed until the very end.**

**I love you guys for giving me this journey.**

The aurors burst into the room with alarming speed. The death eaters who had circled the golden duo turned, shocked. It only took them a moment to understand, however. The moment they did, they raised their wands at the aurors.

Draco caught a look at the golden duo. Besides several bruises and cuts, they seemed to be in fairly good shape. It was incredible what those two could accomplish when they worked together.

The aurors and the death eaters advanced on each other. The curses began to fly, lighting up the room. Potter and Weasel didn't pause for a moment before jumping into the fray.

Draco turned back to where Yaxley was standing. Hermione was still motionless on the floor in front of him. Draco's heart broke looking at her still form, just feet away from the broken shards of her life.

Yaxley looked furious at the arrival of the auror squad. Draco almost laughed. Was he actually dense enough to believe that the three of them, Draco, Ron and Harry, had come alone? Maybe he wanted to believe it.

If you believed something was true, in your own reality, it could be.

Yaxley turned towards Draco, lifting his wand. Draco raised his as well.

He guessed it was the two of them.

Until death crowned a winner.

Yaxley smirked at him. Draco's anger inflated. He hated this sorry excuse of a man. He hated him for what he had done to, not only Hermione, but everyone who had crossed his path. Draco felt himself get angrier and angrier as Yaxley smirked.

The death kicked Hermione's crumpled as he stepped over her, towards Draco.

That was his breaking point.

Draco screamed, a long, bone chilling scream. He screamed for the life Hermione had lost when that ball had been created. He screamed for the chance she had lost when that ball had shattered. He screamed in hatred for Yaxley. He screamed in pain at seeing Hermione unconscious. He screamed for what had been, what might've been, and what would never be again.

With his scream, he sent the first curse at Yaxley.

Yaxley jumped to dodge, and sent his own curse in return. Draco dodged. That's how it began.

Draco barely knew what was happening in the rest of the room. Potter and Weasel didn't matter right now. What was happening between the other death eaters and the aurors was the least of his worries. Right now, Draco only cared about ending Yaxley.

He had never killed of his own accord. But this motherfucker seemed like a good place to start.

Draco used every curse he could think of, from defense against the dark arts class to death eater training. With every spell he fired at Yaxley, and every spell he blocked in return, Draco felt his anger increase.

Nothing mattered right now. Nothing, but winning this duel.

This had started seven years in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Back then, Draco had only been interested in living long enough to see his parents again.

Now, it would end, thousands of kilometres away, in a manor in Egypt. It would end with Yaxley at his feet, begging for mercy, as Draco destroyed the monster's life as the monster had destroyed so many others.

As he had destroyed Hermione's.

The battle raged on.

Draco felt sweat dripping down his neck as he flung curse after curse at Yaxley. A wand flew past his ear. Someone had been disarmed. He didn't flinch. Yaxley was his focus.

Neither side seemed to be winning. They were well matched.

Good, thought Draco. It would feel even better when he won.

"Why do you fight, Malfoy?" Yaxley hissed, as he dodged one of Draco's curses. He replied with a jet of green light.

Draco dodged it narrowly. "For her, you bastard." It sounded cheesy without the "you bastard" at the end.

Yaxley laughed viciously, sending a red jet at Draco. "You love the little pet, don't you?"

Draco sent multiple jinxes at the death eater. "What would you know about love?"

He dodged the jinxes, firing some of his own. "I know it makes you weak."

Draco shook his head. The death eater raised his eyebrows. Draco smirked, the trade-mark Malfoy smirk. "Nope. It makes me stronger than you'll ever be."

Yaxley smiled.

"Let's test that theory."

The duel exploded.

Every second was spent dodging and casting. Neither of them paused, for it would mean defeat. Draco had never fought this hard in his life. But he wouldn't stop. Not now. Not ever.

Hermione wouldn't have stopped.

Draco couldn't see her anymore. Yaxley and he had moved while dueling. His back was to her now. He prayed that she was still alright.

As the duel between him and Yaxley raged on, Draco began to hear noises from the other fighters in the room. He had completely blocked them out, but Draco could hear them loud and clear now. Something was happening.

A chill ran down his spine.

Then, the world exploded.

Draco was knocked off of his feet. He slammed into one of the tapestries, ripping it down as he fell to the floor. His head felt a little off, but he looked up anyway.

He understood immediately what had happened.

Someone had exploded half of the room.

The wall and roof of the other side of the room had fallen. Rock chunks lay in piles. Almost everyone else was knocked to the ground. Draco looked at the piles of fallen rock and tapestries.

He hoped that no one on their side had been standing there.

Suddenly, he froze.

Draco looked around the room quickly. He saw a lot of unconscious people. He saw Yaxley struggling to stand up. Potter had stayed up, still dueling, who was that? Avery? Weasel and Kingsley were fighting death eaters on the ground. The aurors were regaining their footing.

But, no where did he see Hermione.

With dread, Draco realized that the piles of rock had fallen right where Hermione had been lying.

He almost blacked out.

Draco jumped up and raced over to the rock piles, running faster than he had ever run before.

He arrived at the rock piles in a few seconds.

"Hermione!" he screamed in agony. He reached forward to dislodge the rock. Then he felt himself being yanked back.

Yaxley had regained his footing. He had his wand pointed at Draco's back. With a flick, he sent Draco flying back across the room. Draco felt his wand slip out of his fingers.

He landed in a heap. Yaxley advanced on him, smirking.

Yaxley stopped a metre away from Draco, his wand pointed in the rescuer's face.

"Well, look at that. Pet's gone. Just like that. All that love, pointless. Her entire life, meaningless. Now, it will be as if she had never existed in the…." Yaxley trailed off as the ground began to shake.

A loud crash suddenly shook the room, almost upsetting Yaxley's feet. The other death eaters looked up in horror, as if judgement day had come at last. The tapestries all fell from the still-standing walls. The still standing walls crumbled to the ground.

The sky exploded into a million colours, rocking the world.

What the hell was happening?

The rock piles shook, finally exploding into a million molecules of dust.

Draco shielded his face from the exploding rock. He couldn't see a thing.

Suddenly, from the dust, came a voice.

"I wouldn't bet on it, bastard."

Draco almost blacked out again. He'd know that voice anywhere. Whether it was answering a question in class or saving the world.

Hermione.

The dust cleared, and there she stood, in all her beauty. Her clothes were torn. She was covered in scrapes and bruises. Her hair was a wild mess.

And yet, Draco had never seen such a goddess.

Her face was blinding. The power aligning her features was both wonderful and terrible. A smirk played at the corners of her mouth.

In her hand, she held a wand. It must've been the wand that flew by Draco's face.

Around the room, all the others had frozen, watching Hermione.

The Gryffindor Princess raised her wand, pointing it at Yaxley.

"I knew you'd regret taking me."

Draco took several moments to register her words. They bounced around his head, blanking out anything else. He couldn't understand what she meant. How could she know he regret it? She seemed so confident, so sure of herself….

As if she was her old self again.

In that moment, Draco's brain exploded.

Hermione stood in front of them all, clothes ripped. Skin bleeding. Bruises covering her face and body. Her hair was a bird's nest. Her eyes were filled with fire. Her face was glowing with pride. Her wand was raised. She was glorious.

She was Hermione Granger.

Standing in front of them, for the first time in seven years, was Hermione Granger. Bruised, and hurt, but here. Alive. Back. Strong. Beautiful.

Draco had never been happier.

He found himself standing up, his feet were moving of their own accord. He stood up tall, ignoring the aching feeling in all of his body. He looked forward, at the beautiful girl he had fallen in love with.

For as he looked at Hermione, the Hermione he had known for years, he loved every inch of her. From her messed up hair to her confident expression. He loved the Hermione that had sat with him at Tim Hortons. He loved the Hermione who had punched him in the face back in third year. He loved the Hermione who had allowed herself to be tortured. And he loved the Hermione who stood before him, pointing a wand at the bastard who had almost ruined her life.

Over the past month, he had thought of Hermione in every way possible. His Hermione, Hogwarts' Hermione, the bookworm, the student, the Gryffindor Princess. In front of him, now, he saw every single one.

And he was in love with them all.

Hermione was glaring at Yaxley, who was standing in front of her.

The death eater looked terrified, quaking in his boots. His face showed nothing but fear. Hermione without memories was harmless.

Now, he was dealing with the real goddess.

The only reason he had been able to capture her beforehand had been the lack of sobriety. Now, she was sober. She was capable.

And she was angry.

The hate radiating off of her face towards Yaxley was choking him. Physically. Draco saw the death eater struggling to breath. Hermione smirked. It shook Draco to his core.

With a flick of her wand, Yaxley's snapped in half. He dropped the pieces like they were on fire.

Hermione flicked the wand once more. Every death eater in the room, whether standing or not, went flying, hitting the floor with resounding thuds.

Yaxley spun around, and tried to run. Hermione laughed, a chilling, terrible laugh. Yaxley kept running.

Suddenly, he fell back, swearing. He had hit something.

Draco looked on with apprehension. What had happened to Yaxley? He noticed quickly a thin circular wall of mist, surrounding Hermione and Yaxley.

A shield.

With horror, Draco realized that it was a two way shield. They had studied them in charms back in sixth. Flitwick had talked about a powerful type of energy shield. A barrier of mist that could stop anything from either entering or exiting. Anything that touched it would be violently thrown backwards.

Flitwick hadn't taught it to them. He'd told them the incantation, but with great discretion. He said that only the most powerful witches and wizards could complete the spell effectively.

Hermione had completed the spell non-verbally.

Right now, she was one of the most powerful witches in the world.

And she was mad.

Oh no.

Potter was looking on the scene with amazement. He began to walk forward, as if entranced.

"No! Potter!" Draco yelled, but it was too late.

Potter walked straight into the shield, and was sent flying back twenty feet.

Idiot.

Hermione had blocked them out, and locked Yaxley in. She wanted to finish this herself. This was her battle.

"Everyone back up!" Draco shouted. The aurors nodded. They recognized the danger. Weasel had to be pulled back.

Hermione, for reasons unknown, had become one of the most powerful witches in the world within the last few minutes. Her magic was terrible and wonderful. She was glowing gold now, the magic radiating off of her skin.

She was also emotionally unstable. Having been robbed of her life, she was filled with anger at the man who had taken it from her. She could do anything right now.

They needed to get out of the way.

Hermione advanced on Yaxley, taking her sweet time, heightening the tension. She was smirking again.

"Scared, Yaxley?" she said softly. It was one of the most terrifying things Draco had ever heard.

Yaxley held his hands up. "Now, Hermione….."

A flash filled the air.

Yaxley cried out, clutching his cheek. Blood poured out through his fingers.

"Don't say my name!" Hermione's eyes flashed.

Yaxley fell to his knees.

Hermione twiddled the wand in between her fingers. She paced around, like a lion stalking her prey.

"You once told me that love was weakness," she said slowly. Her voice radiated power. She was whispering, but it was sounding effortlessly around the room "But it's not. It's power. You, all of you death eaters have spent your time thinking you are the most powerful creatures on the face of the planet. But you're not. You're the weakest. Because you can't love."

Yaxley skidded backwards a few feet. Hermione barely noticed.

"You don't know anything about love. You don't know how it lifts you up, fills you up. Some of the people I love most in the world are standing in this room. That doesn't make me weak. That gives me more power than you will ever know."

Yaxley was on his knees. His face showed no sign of the arrogant confidence that had aligned it when the rescuers had arrived. It was gaunt and shallow. It was fearful. It was the face of a man at his execution.

Hermione smirked and raised her wand.

"This is for the Masons, you bastard."

Then, the world exploded. Again.

Colours filled the sky, as Hermione released all of her magic. It knocked everyone off their feet. A piercing scream filled the air. Draco closed his eyes. He could still see the flashes through his lids.

Draco felt wind knocking against him. He felt something hit his leg. And yet, he couldn't open his eyes. Hermione wasn't herself right now. She was terrible and beautiful. Draco would probably run for the hills if he opened his right then.

Eventually, it stopped. Draco opened his eyes slowly. He was seated near the back of the room. He turned to where Hermione had been.

The shield was down, now. And Yaxley was gone. All that was left was a small pile of dust where he had been kneeling. Good, Draco thought viciously. Good and dead.

It felt strange, rejoicing for a death. Yet Draco felt no remorse. There was only one thing he cared about right now.

Hermione was standing next to the pile of dust. Her face was ashen. She was no longer glowing. Draco saw her sway.

The wand slipped through her fingers and clattered on the floor.

Hermione looked across the room, and made eye contact with him. Then, her eyelids fluttered to a close.

Draco jumped up just as she fell to the ground.

It took an eternity to race across the room. His heart was pounding faster and faster with every moment. All he could think was not now.

Not after everything.

Not after seven years.

Not after finding her.

Not after getting her memories back.

Not after Draco fell in love with her.

Not now.

Draco finally reached her. She was breathing, at least. Shallow breaths, but breaths none the less. Draco cradled her head in his lap. She was so pale.

"Hermione, wake up," he whispered frantically. "Come on, you can't quit on us now."

Potter and Weasel arrived. They were both deathly pale. Each one kneeled by Hermione, their hearts beating loudly.

Hermione's eyes fluttered open.

"Oh thank merlin," Draco whispered.

Hermione smiled slowly. She was still deathly pale. Her eyes were still fluttering.

"Everything's fuzzy," she whispered.

Draco smiled. "It's all going to be fine."

Hermione's eyes stopped fluttering. She looked up at Draco, making perfect eye contact.

"Draco?" she asked wondrously.

He nodded, almost breaking his neck.

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. A strange buzzing filled the air, and a few sparkles fluttered down from above her. Draco watched with amazement.

She opened her eyes once more and looked at him.

"You were the pattern," she said with absolute certainty.

Then her eyes closed again.

"Hermione," Draco whispered. When she didn't respond, he shook her slightly. No response.

He felt tears run down his face.

"I love you," he whispered.

Her breathing grew shallower.

***Sequel news!***

**I have been asked by several people about writing a sequel. I can honestly say that I don't have a story idea for that.**

**But I have something else.**

**I was thinking about writing a side-quel. Not a story in its self, but a lot of little stories. In Fates, there are a lot of scenes that are discussed, but never actually written. I was thinking about writing those scenes.**

**For example: Lucius and Narcissa's first kiss, the fight at Grimmauld Place the night Hermione disappeared, Arthur Weasley telling Harry about Hermione's disappearance , the night with Harry/Hermione in the woods among others.**

**I was thinking also of writing scenes from different perspectives, like the funeral from Harry's perspective, or this scene ^ from Hermione's. **

**Have you ever watched Lost? Well, you know in the last season how there are the flash-side ways? Well, this story would be kind of like that. Not a prequel, or a sequel, but a side-quel, just a combination story of multiple scenes that are part of the greater Fate Has Its Ways story.**

**Then, if I get an idea, I'd write a sequel.**

**So yeah. Let me know if that would be something you'd be interested in.**

**Oh yeah, review :)**

**Thank you for sticking with Fates. It's been a pleasure.**

**I don't know why I'm making a speech, its not the end of the story.**

**Oh well.**

**Carry on.**

**Ducks. **


	37. Chapter 37

**Hey y'all.**

**Sorry for the last chapter. Forgive me darlings.**

**Ducks was just a random word I thought of because exhaustion.**

**Side-quel is a go :)**

**650 reviews. No words.**

**Disclaimer: no.**

* * *

Draco leaned forward in the chair, head resting on his hands, breathing quickly. He looked at the motionless figure on the bed.

Hermione.

After Hermione had gone under at Yaxley Manor, Kingsley had sent an urgent message to St. Mungos'. No one at the manor had known what was wrong with Hermione. She was breathing, but only barely. Draco had apparated back to London with Hermione in his arms, just like he had from Canada. He was always the one to bring her back.

Word had spread about the battle of Yaxley Manor. When they had arrived at St. Mungos', the place had been crawling with reporters. Draco had gotten through the crowd by screaming. Hermione had been immediately taken by the healers. Potter, Weasel, Blaise and him had waited for hours. They didn't say a word to each other. Finally, they had been let into a room.

Hermione had been lying unconscious in a bed. She was colourless, breathing shallowly, with sweat across her brow. The healers told them that they needed to run some tests. The four men had nodded, and all taken seats.

It had been an hour since then.

The four men sat tensely in their chairs, eyes on Hermione. They hadn't spoken to each other since the manor. Each one of them was hurt, bruised and bloody. They could've fixed that, they were at a hospital after all. But they couldn't bear to take their eyes off of Hermione for even an instant.

Every few minutes, she'd make a noise or move an arm, and each man would sit up straighter. Then she'd become motionless once again.

Draco couldn't understand what had happened. She had gone from most powerful witch in the world to unconscious in a span of a few minutes.

It hurt to see her like this. Besides the fact that he loved her, seeing one of the most incredible people Draco had ever known motionless in a hospital bed was unsettling. If Hermione, amazing, beautiful, incredible Hermione, could get knocked down like this, what about the rest of them?

Draco looked up from Hermione at the other men in the room. Blaise was sitting at the side of the room, next to one of the windows. His face was tensed in concentration. His eyes had not left Hermione since they sat down. She was his responsibility after all. He had spent four years with this case, after the old head had retired. He wanted to close the case with a victory.

Not a funeral.

Weasel was sitting on a chair at the end of the bed. Tear tracks traced his face. Every few moments, he would run a hand through his hair, or fidget a bit. But his eyes never left her face. Sometimes, because of Weasel's obnoxiousness, Draco forgot that he loved Hermione too. He wanted her safe and sound. He wanted her alive. He wanted her to be alright. It didn't matter that he yelled at her sometimes. In the end, his love trumps all.

Potter sat on Hermione's left. Draco didn't know how to respond to that one. He had loved this girl for almost seven years. He had lost her twice, only to get her back on a hospital bed. But by his face, you wouldn't know that. His face was gloriously happy. He had faith that Hermione would get better. So now, he was just happy being with her, whether she was awake or not.

Draco sat at Hermione right, eyes hardly ever straying from her face. Every little bit of movement from her made his heart pound. He wanted her awake, and he wanted her with him. There was nothing more to be said.

Yet, he worried about what would happen if she did wake up.

If she woke up, would she hate Draco again? Would she ever speak to him again? A person had never meant so much to him. He was in love with her. Would he ever get a chance to tell her? Or would she scream and run the moment she set eyes on him?

Suddenly, a noise sounded from behind him. Draco turned. The door was opening.

A healer came in, holding a clipboard with papers in his hand. The four men jumped up.

The healer was a tall man, with light brown hair and brown eyes. Draco felt a stir of recognition, but pushed it to the side. Hermione mattered more.

"Thank you for your patience," the healer said, looking them all in the eye.

"Have you found out what's wrong with her?" Blaise asked.

The healer nodded. He opened his notes.

"Her memory has been gone for seven years, correct?" Everyone nodded. The healer flipped through his notes. "Since she returned, has she done any magic?"

Potter shook his head. "We didn't have her try anything. I figured she'd forgotten how to use magic. We couldn't teach her seven years of magical education in a day."

The healer nodded. "You are correct. Memory loss victims do still have their magical ability. She was still one hundred percent magical. She just didn't have her magical knowledge. There is a reason you do all have to go to Wizarding School, after all."

The healer walked over to Hermione, and began to check her temperature, vitals, and so on.

"She wouldn't have used magic for seven years, then?" The men nodded. The healer looked around at them. His eyes stayed on Draco for a fraction of a second longer than the others.

"Do you know what's wrong with her or not?" Weasel was impatient.

The healer ignored him and kept checking Hermione's vitals.

"Do you all know the theory of magical strength and time?" he asked, taking her temperature.

They all shook their head.

The healer explained. "In the 1800s, a wizard named Durkesh lost his memory for two years. When it returned, his magical power was ten times the strength it had been two years prior. He did some research, and found that his magical power had been stocked."

"Stocked?" Weasel asked, confused.

The healer nodded. "Imagine that your magical power is a monthly salary. You get 100 galleons of power a month. Then, when you use magic, you spend the 100 galleons. Now, imagine that you don't do any magic for a month. Next month, you'd have 200 galleons of magic. So, for that month, you would have more power than before. But your bank account can only hold 100 galleons at a time. So, when you start using magic again, you spent 200 galleons on a spell that might've taken 100."

Draco began to understand. "So, since she hadn't used magic for seven years….."

The healer nodded. "She would've had 8,400 galleons in a bank account with a capacity of 100."

Potter sat down, running a hand through his hair. "So that's why she was so powerful. Why she was glowing. She used seven years' worth of magic in the span of ten minutes."

The healer nodded. "She's completely drained. Magic use like that should've killed her. Especially since she is such a powerful witch. Her banks account is more like 150 galleons a month. Seven years at a 100 galleon salary would've killed a normal witch. 150 galleons should have fried her to bits."

Weasel was deathly pale. He looked over at Hermione. "How'd she survive?"

The healer walked over to Hermione and laid his hand against her forehead. "Hermione Granger is one of the most powerful witches in the world. It is the unbiased opinion of St. Mungos hospital that she can survive anything."

"How long will she be like this?" Blaise asked, walking over to the bed.

The healer wrote something on his clipboard. "It's hard to say. The magic drained her completely. She needs to re-habilitate. That could take ten minutes, or ten years. Just know that she is alive, and not in an extraordinary amount of pain."

"Not an extraordinary amount of pain?" Draco asked, feeling his heart stop.

The healer checked Hermione out with his wand. "I cannot promise you that she is not in pain."

Potter put his head in his hands. "Can you do anything for her?"

The healer shook his head. "I can't give her anything, it would interfere with her rehabilitation. You all can stay in here as long as you want however. We have put up barriers so the press cannot enter. I will check in every few hours."

The healer turned around and walked to the door. When it reached it, he spoke once more.

"It's Hermione, guys. She could perform a protean charm perfectly at age fifteen. She could wake up from this."

Draco was confused at this statement, but the two Gryffindors jumped up.

"Oi, mate!" Weasel called. The healer turned. "What's your name?"

The healer smiled. "Healer Boot. Terry Boot. Has seven years really changed that much?" With that, Terry left.

Potter looked at the door. "Seven years has changed everything." He turned back to Hermione.

The four men circled the bed.

"Well, we always knew she was the most powerful of all of us," Potter chuckled slightly, as he brushed a piece of hair out of her face.

"We never guessed that might kill her," Blaise said, crossing his arms.

"We never guessed a lot of things," Weasel said, looking down at her.

"Ain't that the truth," Potter muttered, shooting a glance at Draco.

"Yes, Potter?" Draco said, looking at the chosen one.

Potter looked at him. "What did Hermione mean?"

"When?" Draco asked, thinking back.

"When she said you were the pattern."

Draco thought back to that moment. He hadn't really thought about it. He was too concerned with saving Hermione's life.

Pattern…

"_You were the pattern," she said with absolute certainty._

Holy shit.

_"Well, what's the pattern?"_

_Draco raised an eyebrow. "Pattern?"_

_Hermione gave him a look that was slightly patronizing. "Well, I know me. I wouldn't have just kept random memories. Each memory I kept had a reason for it being kept. So I'm wondering, do we know what's similar between the memories I protected. They must have been important if I chose to remember them instead of my two best friends."_

He was the pattern.

The pattern. He was the pattern.

The connection between all of Hermione's returned memories.

Punching him in the face.

The drawing room.

The first time he had called her mudblood.

Draco was the connection between the returned memories.

When Hermione had cast the memory block, she had decided to remember him.

She had had only a few minutes before the charm were cast. She had to look over an entire lifetime. The moments where she had laughed, cried, loved, lost, and helped to defeat one of the worst wizards in the history of wizard-kind.

And of all those moments, she only chose to remember Draco.

She hadn't remember her two best friends. She hadn't remembered her parents. She hadn't remembered getting one hundred and twelve percent and their charms exam.

She had remembered being tortured, humiliated, and punching him in the face.

Hermione's life had been incredible, with picture perfect moments. Moments anyone would've killed to be a part of. Draco had been in none of those moments.

Draco looked down at Hermione motionless form. Why him?

Potter was still eyeing him, eyebrow raised. "Well, Malfoy?"

"I was the pattern with the memories." Draco barely whispered the words. He could barely believe it, but he also didn't want to get punched in a hospital room.

"Come again?" That was Blaise.

Draco looked up. "The memories Hermione chose to remember were all memories of me."

Potter looked as though he had been slapped in the face.

"No fucking way."

Draco nodded. "Sorry, Potter, but it's true. Slapping me across the face, drawing room, the mudblood incident. One similarity in between the three."

"You," replied Blaise.

"But, why…." Weasel asked. His face reminded Draco of transfiguration class. Confused and slightly insulted.

Draco looked over at Hermione's motionless figure. "Only she knows."

Potter looked at Draco for moment. Then he shook his head and went and sat back next to her. "Did she remove the memory block?"

Draco nodded. He was sure. The strange buzzing that had filled the air in Yaxley Manor had been the same buzzing from Nott's memories.

Weasel sat down as well. He stared at Hermione for a moment. "How'd she get her memories back?"

Potter answered. "I didn't see the ball break."

"I did," Draco responded. "I had it, then Yaxley sent me flying. Hermione caught it. Yaxley jinxed her, and she dropped the ball."

Potter jumped up. He turned to Draco. "Wait, Hermione dropped the ball?"

Draco nodded, not understanding what difference that made.

The boy who lived began to laugh, a completely free, and liberated laugh. Draco was startled. This was one of the most tense moments of their lives, and wonder boy was laughing.

Potter wiped tears out of his eyes. With a smile, he turned to the other three. "Do you guys know what magic is?"

Draco gave him a look. How dense did he think they were?

Potter continued, answering his own question. "Magic is the inertly just supernatural force of governing elements and influencing events."

The three nodded. Mcgonagall had made them copy that definition a million times. Draco didn't see the point of bringing it up now.

Potter smiled. "It's the _just_ force, guys, just. It's fair. Magic itself is fair; its users are the ones biased to the dark or the light. Either side can use any spell, but it's of moral conscience, not inability, that the light doesn't use some. Memory balls, when created without consent and by another person, are the definition of unjust."

Draco was started to understand. "So, since it was Hermione that broke it…."

Potter nodded. "If anyone else broke the ball, the memories would've disappeared, not allowing anyone else but the owner to have them. But Hermione is the rightful owner. When she broke it, the magic would've recognized that she was the rightful owner of the memories. So they would've returned to her."

"I love magic," Draco whispered.

"How did you know all of that?" asked Blaise, scratching his chin.

Potter looked over at Hermione. "She told me about it once." He sat back down.

There were several moments of dead silence. Everyone was processing what they had learned.

Then Weasel spoke. "Harry, that night in the woods with you and Hermione….." he trailed off.

Potter looked up. "What about it?"

Weasel took a deep breath. "You didn't instigate, did you?"

Potter looked at Weasel for several moments. Then, he shook his head.

Draco stared blankly. Hermione had instigated. Unexpected.

Weasel's jaw dropped. He blinked several times. "Let me get this straight: Hermione instigated between you two. You never told her you were in love with her. You didn't ever make a move on her after that."

"I never tried to have Hermione," Potter muttered, looking down.

Weasel was baffled. "Why?"

Potter stood up. His face had suddenly gotten very red. "Don't you get it? I'd never do that! Hermione was yours! You had liked her for years. Even if she had cared for me, I wouldn't have been with her. Your friendship mattered more to me."

Weasel stood there for several moments. "That's why you didn't tell memory-less Hermione about the night in the woods."

Potter nodded. "I didn't have that right."

Draco stood and watched the scene unfold in front of him. Potter looked tired. Weasel looked confused. And Draco understood.

Weasel had spent seven years thinking that Potter had betrayed him, taking Hermione for himself, and lying to Weasel about it. That was enough to ruin a friendship.

But that was false.

Potter hadn't done any of that. He had never made a move on Hermione. He had never told her the truth. He had stood back and let Weasel and Hermione be together.

It was Hermione who hadn't wanted to be with the ginger.

So now, the two Gryffindors stood in front of each other. The truth was out. Weasel's mis-understandings were the only reason that Weasel had hated Potter. Potter had only hated Weasel because Weasel hated him.

But now, there was nothing left to make them hate each other.

So, what would happen?

The two men seemed to realise that their ideologies of seven years were crumbling to dust. There was nothing left to hate each other for. But, that had been their mindset for years. Just because the reasons were gone, did that mean that the animosity was?

The golden duo stood awkwardly for a moment. Then, Weasel took several steps forward. He held out his hand.

"I'm sorry, Harry."

Potter looked at Weasel's outstretched hand for several moments. Then, he grasped it firmly.

"I'm sorry as well, Ron," he said, looking Weasel straight in the eye.

Draco watched this exchange. Their friendship would take a while to rebuild. But it seems as if the foundation had just been set.

The Gryffindors let go of each other's hands. They smiled at each other.

They were already re-building.

Maybe, just maybe, the golden duo might be just that one day.

Draco looked over at Hermione. She lay on the bed, twitching every few moments. She had no idea what had just happened, mere metres from her. She had no idea that a destroyed friendship had been rekindled. She had no idea that Weasel and Potter were calling each other by their first names. She had no idea that the golden duo were getting more golden by the moment.

She had no idea that it was all because of her.

It was astounding how much Hermione affected in this world. From breakouts, to international newspaper articles, to marriages, to break-ups, to smiles, to tears, to broken hearts, to hearts that have begun to feel for the first time.

Hermione was the underlying force in all of their lives. Potter and Weasel wouldn't have fought without her. But, they also wouldn't have made up without her.

Maybe that's why it took them seven years to make up. Hermione was the string that tied them all together. When she had disappeared, they had fallen apart. She was the only thing that could tie them back together again.

She was the key, the lock, the code, the password, the answer, the question, the moment, the past, the future and the world. This one girl who had intertwined herself so deeply into all of their lives. Simply by existing, she attached herself to everyone she met. She was a puzzle, giving a piece of herself to every person she interacted with. She held the last piece.

That's why she was such a mystery. Because every part of her belonged to someone different. You never knew about the pieces that belonged to other people.

But every piece was a part of her. She fit together perfectly, being different things for different people. Whether a daughter, a sister, a friend, a lover, a rock, a beacon of hope, or a person. She filled every role perfectly. She understood that other people needed her. She was always there for them.

Draco stared at the beautiful woman lying on the bed. Without thinking, he reached out and took her hand, holding it tightly in his. He blocked the other three men out. Hermione was the only thing that mattered.

Terry had said that Hermione could recover in ten minutes or ten years. Ten years was too long without seeing her eyes.

"Hermione," he whispered, not caring if the others heard him. "Remember when we were in Canada? You said something about fate. How fate has its ways. That there are no chances. There are no coincidences. There is only fate. Then I guess it was fate that I fell in love with you."

Draco stared at her face. "Well, fate may control us, but I'm done being controlled. This is my life, and more importantly, it's yours. We've been controlled for so long, by others, by memory charms, by nightmares, but no longer. I'm making a decision now. You are going to wake up. I don't care what fate has to say about it."

Draco leaned forward, and wrapped her hand in both of his. Closing his eyes, he let memories flood his mind.

The first time he had called her a mudblood, and felt regret. The yule ball, when he had fallen in love with her without knowing it. When she had punched him in the face, and secretly he had been impressed. When she had told her friends to stop antagonizing the inquisitorial squad. Sixth year, when on occasion, she'd look over at him for more than a fraction of second. The drawing room.

Canada. Knocking her over. That Tim Hortons. Their first kiss. Her hand running through his pink hair. Her trusting him. Sleeping in his arms. The Quidditch pitch. The feel of her lips on his. Her slapping Nott across the face. Her disappearance. Finding her. Having her destroy her attacker. The pattern. He was the pattern.

And now.

Draco thought of every moment he had ever experienced with Hermione, every thought of her that had crossed his mind. He let the thought of her fill his body.

And all he felt was love.

Love for the bushy haired weirdo. The bookworm. The Gryffindor Princess. The warrior. The Canadian. The woman. The girl. The muggle-born. The witch.

Love for Hermione.

With all that love in his mind, he clenched Hermione's hand tighter. He felt his power drawing out of his hand, into hers. He felt the magic vibrate through his veins. He felt everything.

Before he passed out, he let go. He felt weaker than before, but that was his body. His mind and his heart were stronger than ever before.

He looked at Hermione's form, and smirked.

"Wonderful and terrible," he said softly.

He waited, looking at her face. First came a twitch. Then a movement. Then a cough.

Then finally, her eyes fluttered open. Draco heard gasps from the other men, but he didn't care. He just looked at Hermione. She met his eyes.

"Thank you," was all she said.

**I hope that answered some of your questions**

**Review**

**This is not the last chapter you guys**


	38. Chapter 38

**Hello beauties. We have two chapters left after this. **

**So, I'm going to save my babbling for later.**

**Disclaimer: No**

**I love you all.**

* * *

Draco opened the door to his apartment slowly. Walking in, he almost slipped over a box on the floor. He sighed slightly. The flat looked exactly as it had when he had first moved in.

Boxes covered every inch of the once visible surfaces. The windows were thrown open, showing the slightly blue and sparkly Thames river. He could see Big Ben as well. This flat represented all the simple things in life.

When he had bought this flat, it had become his sanctuary. His place where he could hide from everything in his past and everything in his present. But now, it was simply a room.

He was done with running away from things. They always caught up with him in the end. It didn't matter what he did.

Fucking fate.

It had been one day since Hermione had woken up. Draco's magic transfer had worked exactly as he had intended it to. He had given her enough of his magic for her to re-habilitate. That type of transfer was a nearly impossible type of magic. But when you have a power that's both more wonderful and terrible than death, human intelligence and the forces of nature, nothing's impossible.

She had looked at him with her hazy eyes and thanked him. She had known it was him. Did she hear him speak to her? Did she know how he felt? Whatever she knew or heard, there had been no hate in her eyes.

That had been enough to get him through the last twenty four hours.

The healers had immediately cut off Hermione's contact with everyone. They wanted to make sure all her memories were intact without outside intrusion. That didn't make any sense to Draco though. Shouldn't people from her past be the best way to figure out if her memories were back?

No one could see her. They had been sent home. Draco hadn't known where to go. Hogwarts was the first thought, but he wasn't that sure about going. Then he thought about Canada, with Justin and Katie. He was a little too drained to make the cross-Atlantic apparation in one piece. Then finally, he settled on the manor.

He had not been expecting what he had found.

The manor had exploded. Completely, utterly destroyed. The once mighty building lay in chunks. And was on fire. He couldn't recognize anything in the smoldering ruins. His breath had caught.

For a moment he had felt joy. The place of nightmares, of his mother's imprisonment, and of murder and death was gone. Burning. Destroyed. Never going to exist again.

But then, it fully hit him.

His home. His childhood, or lack thereof, was burning before his eyes. The moments where his mother had hugged him. The first time he had done magic. And from his later life. Hermione in his arms, kissing him. Sleeping in her bed. Holding her. Gone.

As he stared at the burning ruins of his childhood home, he had memories flood his mind, both the good and the bad. That building had housed so many moments that would stay with him forever.

But that was all it was. A building. The memories, the moments, those were with him always. He didn't need a manor to remember them. He would never forget the drawing room, or Hermione sleeping in his arms.

He shouldn't. He needed to remember them. They were life-defining moments. They would stay with him.

Even as the manor burned away before his eyes.

It felt like the end of an era. Draco had stared at the Manor for one final moment, taking it in. Then, he had turned.

He had moved past it.

He had spotted the house elves cowering a few hundred metres away. He was relieved they had all survived. He sent them to Hogwarts. They could work there now.

Then, without hesitation, and without turning, he had apparated to Hogwarts.

It was time to go home.

He didn't speak to anyone, except Mcgonagall. She had let him in.

He spent the day wandering the halls, stopping at different places when a memory flooded his mind. He had smiled in places, frowned in others, and burst into laughter in just a few (thanks twins).

A few students had stared at him, but he had barely noticed.

That day had been about him.

He had gone to the Slytherin Common Room. (Mcgonagall had given him the password). He stared at the couches where he and his friends had complained about teachers and Gryffindors. He found his old dormitory, and thought about the nights he had spent wide awake, his brain going crazy.

He had gone down to the Potions Classroom. Slughorn had been teaching a lesson, but had let him stand in the corner and think. He thought about his godfather, how he had so easily sacrificed himself for the one that he had loved. A Slytherin dying a Gryffindor's death.

Draco really missed the hook nosed ex-potions master sometimes.

He had walked to the seventh floor and entered the room of hidden things. It still worked after the giant fire, though it smelled distinctly of smoke. Draco had sat down in the middle of the room, cross legged like a child. He had stared forward blankly. The last time Crabbe had been alive had been in that room.

For the next few minutes, all of Draco's walls had crumbled.

When he had left the room, he had begun to wander the grounds. Eventually, he had sat down on the grass by the lake. Staring at the giant squid, he thought about what Hogwarts meant to him.

When he had first arrived at that school, he had been nervous. Scared, traumatized from a love-less childhood. This had resulted in a state of being a little prick. But, over the years, he had begun to feel at home within the walls. He had found some great teacher mentors. He had found some lifelong friends. He had mocked Hogwarts when he was with company, but inside, he loved every part of the school.

It had changed him. And even though it was no longer his school, and no longer his place of residence, it would always be there for him. That castle would always be a constant in his life, whether he had entered it for seven years or not.

Hogwarts would always be there to welcome him home.

He had dozed off with that thought in his mind.

He had woken up when the sun began to shine in his eyes. He had still been sitting by the lake. He had fallen asleep there, and by the sunrise, he had slept for nearly twelve hours.

He had walked up to the castle, and ducked down to the kitchens. He grabbed a sandwich and scarfed it down.

Then, he had apparated to his flat.

Now, he stood staring out the window. The manor and Hogwarts had left his mind. Instead, he was preoccupied with her. Predictable.

He didn't know what was happening with her. It was really starting to worry him. Was she still at the hospital? Had she been released? Where was she? Was she alright? Did all her memories return perfectly? Did her power supply replenish? Did she remember her time without her memories? Draco had heard of that happening: when a memory loss victim regained their memories, sometimes their time without the memories became fuzzy, distant, like a dream instead of a reality. Could that have happened to Hermione?

There were so many questions.

Draco sat down.

Almost the moment he had, someone knocked on the door. Draco groaned and lumbered over. If someone was going to bother him, why couldn't they come after he had finished pondering?

Draco opened the door. Then he sighed.

"Well, shit, Potter."

The boy who lived was standing in his doorway. He looked as he usually did. His hair was a little messier than usual though.

He invited himself in.

The chosen one looked around Draco's flat, looking at all the different boxes. "When did you move in?"

"A month back," Draco said. A month, only a month. It felt like a lifetime.

Potter nodded. They stood awkwardly for a moment.

"So, uh, Potter. Why are you here?"

"I came to tell you that Hermione's been released."

Draco's eyes popped open. "Well, where is she?"

"Grimmauld Place."

Draco stared at Potter for a moment. "In what world is that a good idea?"

Potter sighed. "In mine. Listen, Hermione doesn't have a home to go back to. Her parents are dead. And she's fine with it."

Draco felt the surprise flicker on his face. "Does she remember the last night she was here?"

Potter nodded. "She remembers everything."

_Everything, _Draco mused.

Potter ran a hand through his hair. "Also, Hermione and I need to talk. I wanted to hang out in a place where I could control the exits and entrances."

Draco couldn't help laughing. "Because that worked so well a few days ago."

Potter rolled his eyes. "I re-did the Fidelius charm the yesterday. It was like a re-set button. Kingsley is still secret keeper, but he has to re-invite people."

"Hmm," said Draco. "That might work then. And, yeah, you and Hermione need to have a talk."

Truer words had never been spoken.

Potter nodded. "Anyway, the Weasleys are throwing Hermione a welcome back party. I came to invite you."

Draco was taken aback. "Umm, thanks Potter."

There was another moment of silence.

Potter spoke up. "Just come around the burrow at 5. Everyone's going to go."

Draco nodded. "I'll be there."

Potter stuck out his hand. Draco took it and gave it a firm shake.

"Thanks for taking care of her, Malfoy."

"No problem, Potter," he said.

Potter let go of his hand and turned to the door.

"I'll see you later…Draco."

"Yeah, you too…Harry."

With that, the boy who lived left.

Draco looked at the clock on the wall. He still had basically the entire day. Fuck.

He looked around the flat. Well, maybe he could finally fully move in.

For the rest of the day, Draco cleaned his flat. He pushed Hermione to the back of his brain. He couldn't focus if he spent all his time worrying about her. So, for that day, it was just Draco and his boxes.

Finally, at 4:23, he finished. The flat looked magnificent, with not a single box in sight. Now that Draco could see the floor, he could see himself living here. This was his space now.

Now, he had thirty eight minutes to freak out.

Thirty eight minutes to find the right clothes. Thirty eight minutes to make his hair spectacular. Thirty eight minutes to find a good pair of shoes.

Thirty eight minutes with her face in his mind. Thirty eight minutes to imagine all the different things he might say to her. Thirty eight minutes to wonder if her feelings had changed since her memory returned. Thirty eight minutes to calm his racing heart.

Thirty eight minutes to wonder why he was the pattern. Thirty eight minutes to worry about the future. Their future. If they even had a possible future together.

Those thirty eight minutes were the longest thirty eight minutes of his life.

Eventually, at 4:57, he was ready.

He was wearing black jeans, with a green t-shirt. Slytherin for life. His hair wasn't gelled. It was kind of messy. Draco thought it made him look endearing, like a scruffy puppy. He was wearing black sneakers.

He was trying to stay casual. He didn't know what Hermione would say if he showed up in a tux with a bouquet of roses.

His heart was beating at a slightly quickened pace, but it was better than it had been before. Draco was ready.

Or as ready as he'd ever be.

With that thought in mind, he apparated away to the burrow.

He landed just outside the front gate. With a deep breath, he walked into the yard.

It was obviously a more intimate gathering. It wasn't a large crowd in the slightest. The Weasleys were all there, naturally. Longbottom, Looney, Kingsley, Hagrid, Mcgonagall, Seamus, Dean, and Blaise. Padma and Parvarti were there as well. Hermione didn't seem to be there yet.

Blaise eyed Draco and beckoned him over. The auror was talking with his fiancée, Padma. Draco vaguely wondered when the wedding was going to be.

"Hey Draco, mate!" Blaise smiled. Padma wrapped her arm around Draco's waist and gave him a small hug. He and Padma had always gotten along.

"Hello Draco," she said, smiling. Draco returned it. Blaise hugged Padma to him. Draco stared at them for a moment, thinking about that little moment they had just shared. Draco was happy that Blaise had such a great relationship. No one deserved love more than Blaise.

And yet, what made someone deserving of love? Whether or not they were a good person, whether or not they were a little crazy, or if they were beautiful? Draco thought everyone deserved love. But, not everyone got it. And sometimes, the people who needed it the most didn't get any at all.

"Hey guys," Draco responded. "How're you?"

Blaise shrugged. "Good, I guess. I feel weird. Did you know that the Hermione Granger case is officially closed? Forever? After we left the hospital, I went to the ministry. With my testimony, and the capture of the other death eaters, as well as Nott's official testimony, it's closed. Yaxley, the dead bastard, and the six others have been charged. Every mystery is solved. Seven years. And now it's over. It's been such a huge part of my life. I'm happy it's closed. But it feels like the end of an age, you know?"

Draco shook his head. "No. It's just the beginning."

Padma chuckled. When Draco shot her a look, she spoke. "When did you get so insightful?"

"When Fate decided I should be," he responded.

Padma giggled. Blaise pulled her in and kissed her cheek. Draco smiled at them, but felt an ache in his heart. He wanted what they had. Except, not which a gorgeous Indian lady.

Maybe a beautiful bookworm would do.

Blaise kept talking. "And now Hermione's memory is back, and the memory block is gone, and maybe we might get some stability in our lives."

Memory block. The words bounced around Draco's head. Something didn't click. He thought about it for a moment. Then he got confused.

"Oi, Blaise," he asked, turning to his best friend. "How did Hermione do the memory block?"

"What do you mean?" Blaise asked, confused.

"Like, how did she do it and un-do it? She was wandless both times. The first time, she was almost broken. She was weak , bruised, and bloody. She was completely magically drained the second time around. The death eaters didn't even notice the buzzing that came along with the spell. I don't understand how she pulled it off."

Blaise nodded, understanding Draco's confusion. "After you sent Kingsley that letter about the memory block, I looked them up. Memory blocks aren't based on magical strength."

Draco raised his eyebrow. "Meaning?"

Blaise continued. "Remember what the reasons for casting a memory block were? To protect memories for sentimental value, you don't want anyone to be able to access them, or you have hope that they will return one day, even if your other memories don't. Those are all emotionally based reasons. Love, protectiveness, and hope. Overall, you want to keep the memories because they mean something to you."

Draco still didn't get it.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Ok, so when you cast a memory block, it's based on emotional strength, not magical. If you are protecting the memories because the mean something to you, usually something to do with love, you have to really love and cherish them. If you want to protect them, you must have the protectiveness of a mama bear protecting her cubs. If you're hopeful that they're going to return, you must be filled with a hope more blinding than the sun."

Draco got it.

Blaise smiled. "So Hermione, for whichever reason she protected her memories, was filled with such a strong and blinding emotion that she could perform the charm at her weakest and with no wand."

Draco felt something stir deep inside of him.

She had remembered him. She had felt a strong and blinding emotion for him.

Blaise kept talking.

"The death eaters couldn't hear the buzzing, because if there is one thing death eaters don't understand, it's emotions. The memory block is emotional."

Draco nodded, understanding. His mind was racing. A strong and blinding emotion…..

Just then Seamus walked up. Dean was at his side. Those two were inseparable.

In Seamus' hand was a bottle of firewhiskey. He conjured up some glasses and handed them out. He poured them all a glass.

Seamus lifted his in a toast. "To Hermione Granger, who isn't really here yet, but who has changed all of our lives. May she never disappear for seven years again."

Draco drank to that.

He looked down at the glass in his hand. Oh, alcohol, he thought. The one thing that was always just there. It affected him more than it really should've.

Now that he thought about it, alcohol affected a lot many moments of his life. When he had run into Hermione the first time in Canada, he had been smashed out of his mind. At the gala, in the final moments of antagonizing muggle Weasley, champagne had been on his brain. Moscow. All of Moscow.

Going back further. The Yule Ball. It was the first time he had really been drunk. Some of the older students had brought some stuff in. Draco had gotten smashed. He didn't really remember anything other than Hermione walking in, even eleven years later.

He hoped nothing interesting had happened later.

An image flitted across his mind. A few snowflakes falling through the air onto cobblestones. A faint twinkling filled his ears, music from another time.

Draco tried to focus on what he was seeing, but the image and eerie music vanished. The picture disappeared into wisps of smoke. He was unable to grasp them. They felt close, but unreachable.

Draco shook his head clear. An errant thought, a dream, should not affect him right now. He had other things to focus on.

But yet, it felt important.

But just then, he was shaken out of his reverie by Blaise. The auror was gesturing to the entrance of the yard. Draco's heart stopped.

Harry was walking in. He looked…Draco didn't even have an adjective for how Harry looked.

He looked like he had just gotten his best friend back.

And then, there was the best friend.

She was wearing a simple pair of jeans, a green t shirt and a black hoodie. Her shoes were red converse. Her hair was left down. She had her hands in her pockets.

She was smiling, her eyes shining as she took everyone in. Her face shone with confidence, and self-awareness. She knew who she was. She knew what she wanted. And she knew what she had.

Her happiness was a wave that washed over everyone.

Draco stared, unblinkingly at her. Words began to bounce around his head, taking shape and then disappearing, like the image had just prior.

Words about who she was.

The bookworm. The Gryffindor Princess. The mudblood. The beauty. The warrior. The scholar. The heroine. The girl. The woman.

The love of his life.

Hermione Granger was back.

**Review friends. We are so close.**


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